In Another Life
by lozlol
Summary: "Slytherin!" The hat had cried out, altering the path of Hermione Granger's life. Stuck in the green and silver house she decides to embrace it, but not everyone is welcoming of a muggleborn in the snake pit- particularly not Draco Malfoy.
1. Prologue: The Sorting

_**The Sorting:**_

Hermione Jean Granger didn't do anything half-arsed. As soon as she'd gotten her acceptance letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry she'd dove into stacks of books to learn as much as she could about the school and the wizarding world itself. She was terrified of being isolated and confused when she arrived.

One book she'd read in full three times, and thumbed through several more, was Hogwarts: A History. As much as she loved gaining the fantastical knowledge of the ceiling in the Great Hall looking like the current outside weather, or giggling over the idea of the stairs turning into a slide if a boy tried to enter her room, what she really found fascinating was the story of the founders; Gryffindor the brave one, Ravenclaw the clever one, Slytherin the sly one, Hufflepuff the kind one. Not that she was cruel, but she couldn't imagine being in Hufflepuff. The way she spoke so directly and unabashedly didn't often comfort people, and she hadn't ever had friends to show loyalty to. Slytherin she instantly dismissed, after all, every dark wizard ever had come from that house, and no muggleborn. Ravenclaw was where she knew she would be, surrounded by others who craved learning, and she supposed that wouldn't be the worst thing, but what she really wanted was to be brave and go on adventures with her fellow housemates- she knew her knowledge could help them.

The long arduous wait was finally over, yet as she stepped onto the glossy Hogwarts Express she wished she could get off. She found herself frozen in the entryway. "Move it Bush hair," ordered a pretentious voice from behind her as he shoved past, his court behind him making their way to a carriage with their heads held high. She frowned and snapped into action. This was supposed to be a new start. She wasn't going to let this be like her primary school days. And if so, she had to be a new her. Subconsciously, she tried to smooth down her hair before turning on her heel and storming down the train in search of a compartment. The first one she found with some nice looking people her age she peered into. "Can I sit with you?" She asked in her most confident, grown-up voice and the boy nodded meekly. The girl just continued to stare out the window aimlessly. Oh great, she'd chosen the compartment with the other loners. She couldn't just leave now though.

"I'm Hermione Granger." She announced after a pregnant pause. Another. "And you are?"

The boy looked down at the floor, nervously wringing his hands. "N-n-Neville Longbottom." Oh dear. How unfortunate.

The dirty blonde finally turned her head and smiled dreamily at Hermione. "Luna Lovegood." The glazed over look in her eyes was quite disturbing. Hermione suspected it wasn't just caused by daydreaming.

After it became clear that there wasn't going to be anymore invigorating conversation she pulled out her copy of Hogwarts: A History again, the edges were already fraying. Only a few minutes into her reading though; she was disrupted by the panicked gasp of the boy opposite her. Neville had pulled out an empty cage from beneath his feet and was wailing about his toad "Trevor" for the two girls, and probably the rest of the train, to hear. Stashing her book in her bag, she stood up quickly, thanking whoever was in charge for this lucky escape. "I'll go search for him!" Neville thanked her endlessly and she pushed away the compliments, shutting the compartment door behind her and leaning against the wall with an exhalation of relief.

After changing into her Hogwarts uniform and admiring her reflection, she decided she might as well actually go search for the toad. She had nothing better to do.

The first compartment she came to contained a group of debating students in blue ties, who shook their heads at her questions and waved her away. In the next were a yellow and black robed bee-looking cluster, who excitedly announced that "Hufflepuffs are excellent finders" and proceeded to head down the other end of the train to search for the toad. The final compartment in the carriage was filled by two boys of her own age and enough sweets to give them diabetes, but she squeezed in when she saw one of them holding a wand. Glancing expectantly at him she asked if he knew any spells, all thoughts of the toad forgotten as she imagined having friends just as prepared and excited as her. Unfortunately, all wasn't as it seemed. The boy twirled his wand and recited a clearly imagined spell that she would have read about in one of her Ladybird Early Reading books as a toddler. She said as much to him and the redhead let out a resounding huff at her criticism. Pulling her own wand out, she pointed it at his companion and spoke clearly. "Oculus Reparo." The two boys stared open mouthed at her, a strange sweet hanging out of the redhead's that he'd been chewing. She struggled to restrain her chuckles. After a quick swapping of introductions, she vacated the compartment, just as they began to slow down.

"Hermione!" A familiar voice called out and she shut her eyes annoyed before turning around to face her original two companions with a Botox smile. "Did you find him? Did you find Trevor?" She shook her head no and Luna put a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Don't worry Neville," she said in that very dreamy voice. "You'll find Trevor."

This seemed to comfort Neville and he quickly addressed Hermione, "Luna's a Seer." Hermione nodded and quickly hurried away from the two as the doors opened, allowing herself to get swept up in the other First years heading towards the Lake. A Seer? Those Crazies.

Her books didn't do justice to the wonder of Hogwarts. It was beautiful; rising high in the sky as they rowed across the lake towards it. The interior was just as impressive, and as she marvelled at the moving portraits that gossiped about the new arrivals, she imagined them roaming these halls that seemed from a time long gone. When the professor who'd guided them through the halls led the first years into the filled Great Hall, Hermione gazed up at the ceiling in wonder.

As the headmaster gave a welcoming speech she pondered the sorting ceremony. She knew it came after his speech, but the details hadn't been disclosed in any of her research material. Would there be tests of strength, of kindness, of wit, of cunning? Would there be riddles and logic puzzles? Her ideas all proved fruitless as the headmaster produced a pointy hat and placed it on a stool. She leant forward curiously and abruptly jumped back when the hat began to speak- or rather, sing. It sang a song of the four houses, a sort of introductory cheat sheet for those who hadn't done their research, she supposed. Once it was finished, the headmaster began to call out names in alphabetical order. One by one, the students sat on the stool and had the hat placed on their head. Sometimes its decision was immediate, other times it seemed to ponder things over; but when it had made its decision it cried out the house name in a shrill voice and the members of that house cheered and whooped. Hermione imagined herself at the Gryffindor table next year, surrounded by friends, cheering on the first years. "Hermione Granger." Smiling nervously, Hermione took her seat on the stool and the hat began to talk, she realised, to only her. "Clearly a very intelligent head here, with a thirst for knowledge." Her smile became somewhat proud. "But you long to be brave and I see some there in your self-confidence, yes." Was this it? Was she going to Gryffindor? The hat paused. "Hm... ambitious, certainly. A longing for the power to make others suffer for what they have done you wrong... only one place for you. SLYTHERIN!"

A resounding silence echoed throughout the huge room and Hermione felt her own mouth drop open. Eventually, the Slytherins began to make some noise, but it wasn't pleasant. Instead of cheers, she received boos. Glancing back to the headmaster in a panic, the eleven year old muggleborn received little support from the bearded old man. Instead, Dumbledore pointed her towards the table, and his eyes followed her there, now more full of suspicion than mirth. Wishing she could just disappear, Hermione sank into a seat at the edge of the table. The whispers and hisses felt like the snakes were strangling her. And of course, the next girl sorted was in Slytherin and received the loudest cheer of the day. No, she'd already decided she wasn't going to be pushed around again. She was in Slytherin, and she was damn well going to be the best Slytherin they'd ever seen.


	2. First Year

**_AN: Thank you to everyone who supported the prologue. I decided to post First Year now since I'm going away for a week so there won't be another update for awhile._**

 ** _Without further ado..._**

 _ **First Year:**_

The first weeks of life at Hogwarts passed relatively monotonously for Hermione. She was top of every class, just like she'd planned, and while in class she could somewhat ignore the whispers and giggles, it became more difficult in the corridors or the Great Hall. The common room and the bedroom she shared with the other first year girls were among the worst offenders, so she tried to spend as little time as possible there. Surprisingly, she often had a silent companion- Daphne Greenglass. The girl who'd been sorted just after her certainly didn't spend as much of her time as Hermione did in the library, it would have been difficult for her to what with the amount of times the blond oaf who'd knocked into Hermione on the train and his entourage came in to drag her outside. Despite that, it was clear that Daphne valued learning just like herself, and Hermione admired her for it. She also admired Daphne when, kicked out of the library due to the late hour, Hermione had been forced to return to bed and Parkinson, holding a finger to her nose, had begged "shut the hangings would you Granger? Your filthy blood is stinking up the room."

"I think that's your new perfume Pans," her knight in a shining grey school skirt had declared with conviction. The other girls had giggled, and Daphne had shot her a mischievous grin, which she'd readily returned.

After that exchange, the two girls often sat beside each other in the library rather than at separate tables. They helped each other with their homework and Hermione found that she enjoyed it even more when she had someone competent to work with. One day as she was about to take her usual seat at the edge of the table, her new friend grabbed her arm and, before she could protest, deposited her in the snake pit. Click, click, click, went Malfoy's foot on the floor as he tapped it, then lazily turned his head to face his friend, ignoring Hermione, and drawled "Didn't your parents ever tell you not to bring your dirty pets to the table Daph?" If he expected her to burst out crying or something he was going to be sorely let down.

"Didn't your parents ever tell you how to wash your face Malfoy?" He raised a confused eyebrow and she pointed her finger to the mouth that always remained in the same position. "You've got a little... oh... never mind. That's just your ugly expression." The blond boy and the raven haired girl beside him clutching his arm looked quite indignant, but Daphne stifled a giggle, and the boys on Hermione's other side, Nott and Zabini, laughed unabashedly. She smirked at them, her confidence building enough to spear a sausage.

"You were right Daph," Nott said. "She does have spunk." Daphne preened and blushed a little, and Hermione discretely glanced between the two, eyes narrowed.

* * *

"It's leviOsa not leviosAR!" A frustrated Hermione chastised Goyle in their charms class a few days after Daphne had drawn her into the fold.

From his position behind them, Malloy challenged, "go on then Granger, show us."

"Gladly." She spoke the incantation and with a flick of her wand the feather on their desk rose smoothly into the air.

"Lovely Miss Granger. Five points to Slytherin," Professor Flitwick paused to say, before moving over to help Crabbe. Hermione jutted her chin out at Malfoy and accepted the high fives from the others with a smirk tugging at her mouth.

* * *

"'Mione..." her charms partner spoke in a whining tone. "Would you help me?"

She tipped her head and with a frown said, "not if you mean by sneaking my essay and copying it", as she batted his hand away from where it was sneaking down to her open bag.

From where they lounged nearby playing chess and watching their friend's failed plan, the others let out resounding laughter, excepting Malfoy and Parkinson of course, who instead pointedly ignored the whole exchange. "Nicely done cara," Zabini said and with a grin, Nott added "I LOVE her!" in a clearly delighted tone. She smiled back with a matching radiance, revelling in the fact that her plan was working in every intended way.

* * *

As she walked at the back of the group, chatting casually to Daphne, Hermione almost crashed into Blaise when they all abruptly stopped, by silent order of his Lordship Malfoy. She often wanted to strangle that obnoxious ferret, but she had to win him over if her plan to rule Slytherin was going to succeed.

A quick glance told her why they had stopped. The two clueless boys she'd sat with on the train for a few minutes were whispering about the best way to sneak onto the forbidden third floor. Idiots. Clearly it wasn't 'forbidden' for no reason- they were going to get themselves killed- or worse, expelled. Why on earth did she ever want to be in their house? It was full of people who rushed into plans without thinking them through.

After he'd gotten his daily quota for Potter jabs in, Malfoy led them all into Potions in a sweeping manner, leaving their head of house chiding the Gryffindorks for their "tardiness and loitering", and taking ten points for it. The answering complaints made everyone stare. Honestly, those boys must have a death wish. "As our new celebrity," said Snape in an amused yet dangerous voice. "You may think you are entitled to certain privileges Mr Potter. But class begins at the same time for you as everyone else." Malfoy chuckled at his godfather and, for once, she felt in agreement with him.

* * *

Their first flying lesson was several weeks into term, as apparently their teacher had sustained a 'job-related injury'. That didn't entirely encourage Hermione to get onto one of these flying death traps. As she stood opposite the Gryffindors though, Hermione knew this was another opportunity to prove herself. Many of the Slytherins had learnt to fly as children, but that wouldn't stop her from catching up. "Up." She said with the others, and felt a rising angry panic as not just Malfoy but also bloody _Potter_ succeeded in the simple task. That boy had proved himself utterly inadequate in every class she'd had with him so far. She was _sure_ that she had more talent despite his undeserving moniker. " _Up._ _**Up**_." She repeated again and again with more force each time. She was so distracted that she didn't even get to revel in her classmates' humour as Weasley received a bashing to the head from his own broom.

"When I blow my whistle I want you all to kick off the ground and hover, lean forward, then come back down," their teacher instructed. Hermione gave a sharp nod and with focussed intent waited for the whistle to be blown. "Three, two-" The boy she'd sat with on the train, the one who'd lost his toad, launched into the air and began to spin crazily, ending up hanging from his robe on a pole. " _MR LONGBOTTOM!_ " Shrieked the professor, and once again Hermione pitied his name. But still...

"What. An. Idiot." She groaned to Daphne, who nodded in agreement. The boy in question suddenly plopped to the floor at their feet, earning rolled eyes even from some of his fellow housemates. Madame Hooch was holding up fingers in front of him before pulling him up. "Feet on the ground until I get back." She instructed the group of troublesome eleven year olds, probably knowing they would never actually follow the order, but racing towards the hospital wing anyway.

Spotting a marble-like object filled with red smoke rolling along the floor, Hermione picked it up. Malfoy snatched it out of her hand despite her brief "oi!" But honestly it was rather half-hearted. "Longbottom's forgotten something alright. This thing itself for starters, his dignity-"

"Give it back Malfoy!" Potter declared, although it had never been in his possession. What an entitled brat. Professor Snape had been right about him. The blond held it out of Potter's reach, goaded him a little, and soon the two were chasing each other through the air. Hermione smacked her hand into her head.

"Boys," Was all Daphne said in bored agreement as the rest of the class cheered on their respective housemate. Malfoy landed on the ground just as Professor McGonagall came out, a shocked expression on her face. Hermione grinned, wishing she had some popcorn, as the imbecile Potter faced his cheering classmates, proudly holding the rememberall in his hand.

" _MR MALFOY!_ " The head of Gryffindor shouted across the field in a strong Scottish accent, Potter's eyes comically widening as he heard it and he quickly touched down from his hovering position. "Ten points from Slytherin. Mr Potter, come with me."

* * *

"The loony old bat put him on the bloody Quidditch team!" Malfoy roared in the safety of the Slytherin common room, slamming his fist on the table so the pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans fell and scattered all over the table and the floor. Greg and Vincent dove for them.

"It's a travesty." Hermione agreed with utter sincerity, causing the others to look at her with confusion, searching her face for some hint of sarcasm. Even Malfoy appeared perplexed for a brief moment before he corrected his mask.

"I don't need your mudblood sympathy Granger."

She held herself back from trying out one of the very advanced jinxes she'd read about before bed last night and instead said, "good because you don't have it. I was simply saying it's wrong. And you should get revenge." Those two words got the full attention of everyone in the group. Even Greg and Vincent stopped their relentless search to peer up at the brunette as cruel smirk appeared on her face.

"What would you suggest?" Asked Theo as he leaned forward curiously.

It had to be something that would get Potter in trouble, but not Malfoy, though she had to admit she wouldn't mind seeing that again... but that wasn't the goal right now. She thought about the wizarding romance novel Daphne and Pansy had been reading passages aloud from last night while she tried to focus on her jinxes, and an idea began to form. "Challenge Potter to a duel after curfew. He's a Gryffindor so he'll feel obliged to accept or else he'll feel cowardly- the shame would eat him alive. Then don't show. Filch will find him and do your work for you."

"Sneaky." Pansy admitted begrudgingly. Malfoy himself called it "unimpressive and spineless", but when she heard him telling Theo and Blaise he couldn't wait to see their faces the next morning she knew he'd done it- not that she thought he'd ever admit it before he was in his grave.

* * *

Unfortunately, Potter and Weasley weren't complaining about being in trouble the next morning. They looked rather more celebratory as they together unwrapped an unusually shaped object which Theo angrily told her was a Nimbus 2000- "gorgeous mahogany handle and the fastest broom ever made!" Had this been another circumstance she would have mocked his passion for the dangerous flying object, but instead she frowned along with the others at the unfairness of it all- first year students weren't even allowed their own brooms! Malfoy though, refused to just frown.

"Oh hell no!" He hissed and abruptly pushed back the bench, causing Pansy to spill all her pumpkin juice down her front and let out a disgruntled wail at her now orange shirt. Hermione did allow herself a small chuckle for that- if Pansy had been wearing the regulation jumper it wouldn't have shown so strongly though...

Blaine grabbed his friend' sleeve as he tried to pass him. "Sit back down."

The others looked panicked as well. Reputation was important to this house, those of pure blood, she knew, and if Malfoy went over there and started yelling at Potter he'd have the attention of the whole hall, and certainly lose them some points. No, this had to be done carefully.

* * *

She studied books she'd convinced Snape to sign off for her from the restricted section for days, but she had to admit that this magic was slightly beyond her young capabilities, so she asked the others to direct her to an older student who was trustworthy to carry out the task for them. They pointed her towards a sixth year who was apparently a cousin of Theo's. The older boy glanced at the spell she wanted him to do and nodded curtly. "Easy." He'd said, making her bristle. Still, if he could do it, it would be worth it.

Something else she hoped would be worth it was standing in these freezing stands, watching a bunch of boys and a couple of girls throw deadly balls at each other and try to knock each other out of the sky. And since she didn't particularly care about any of these people getting hurt it was all very dull. She'd reached down towards her book at least five times and stopped herself, determined she wouldn't miss the moment vengeance was served, but that didn't stop her teeth from chattering. "Here you go _bella_ ," Blaise said as he wrapped his green and yellow scarf around her neck and she shot him a quick answering smile.

She was lucky that it had been a _quick_ smile, because when she looked back, Potter's broom began to jerk and convulse. An uncontrollable smile ached to show its control over her expression but she forced it back down, listening happily to the signs of dissent and confusion slowly spreading among the Gryffindors as they realised something was wrong. Suddenly Potter's broom began to fly to the ground. He flew back up again, mouth hung open in shock catching the snitch. Hermione prayed he would choke on it.

"Gryffindor win!" Madame Hooch declared whilst the scarlet robed students began screaming in delight. The masks of the Slytherin students faltered, and Hermione could feel the unshed tears around her, held back like a dam.

* * *

Christmas was fast approaching, and Hermione was increasingly stressed. What was she supposed to get everyone? She'd never had _one_ friend close enough to buy a gift for and now she had a whole group. She wasn't particularly inclined to get Malfoy anything (and she doubted he'd get her anything either), but would it cause a huge drama _not_ to get him anything? She decided to ask Daphne about it.

"Get him and the other boys some cheap sweets," her friend suggested. "All they ever want is food anyway. That or brooms- and they're _far_ too expensive." The two girls chuckled, neither one particularly fond of flying. "I know all the Pure-blood girls aren't allowed, or can't access, muggle fashion and makeup, but we admire it..."

"Subtle." Hermione teased, but made a note.

"If that's all I'm going to head up to the Owlery to send my mother _my_ Christmas shopping list."

"Daphne?" The blonde bombshell turned back to face her. "Why did you befriend me? I know it wasn't just so you could get free 'Seventeen' products."

Her friend giggled. "Because I liked you," she said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "And honestly, what Pansy said about your blood rubbed me the wrong way. I may be a Pure-blood with a Death Eater for a father but my mother never conformed to that way of thinking, and after my father died she made sure my sister and I didn't either. We're not all like the Malfoys." She promised, giving Hermione's hand a comforting squeeze. "Although... I think you and your devious ways are growing on him."

Hermione let out an amused snort at that. "Yeah right."

* * *

When she returned to school after Christmas Hermione continued to be the only one in the class to make diligent notes in History of Magic classes, but that didn't stop her from eavesdropping on the boys she were coming to despise as they whispered, badly, about a 'Flamel'. Why did that name sound so familiar?

"I got some Nicholas Flamel guy on a chocolate frog card Daphne got me for Christmas!" Greg exclaimed suddenly, interrupting the silence after she'd later told her friends what she'd heard.

" _Nicholas_ Flamel!" Hermione repeated, hugging her friend. "I could _kiss_ you!" Greg blushed a fushia colour that would have the other boys mocking him for weeks. She found the book she remembered reading about Flamel in it, and quoted a passage to the group as they sat gathered around her in the library. "'Nicholas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone, whose powers include turning any metal to gold and producing the Elixir of Life, a potion that can make the drinker immortal.' Why would Potter and Weasley be curious about an alchemist?"

"I don't know," said Daphne. "But we have some knowledge that they want and don't have, and I personally feel pretty good about that." Both girls missed the glance Theo and Draco shared.

"Unless..." Hermione frowned. "They were rooting around that forbidden Third Floor corridor the night they got caught out after curfew. You don't think..." she trailed off.

Vincent and Greg both looked at her bewildered. "What?" They asked in synch.

* * *

As she became the first person to successfully completely the transfiguration of the day, Hermione swelled with pride, but she couldn't block out that annoying voice telling Pansy, "don't worry about it. She's just compensating for her muddy blood. Doesn't stop practising to take a breath."

Her ambition was something she was proud of, but the insult still stung, and Hermione whipped around to glare at him. "If you're going to insult me at least come up with some new material, ass."

Looking amused, Malfoy stroked a fake Dumbledore-length beard. "Alright then... bush-haired banshee."

"Ferret boy."

"Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy, back to work!"

He scoffed. "At least my insults make sense. How in the name of Salazar do I look like a ferret? And I mostly take offence to the fact that you're clumping me in the same family as the weasel." Weasley looked up from his seat, confused.

"Miss _**Granger**_. Mr _**Malfoy**_."

"You have the same ugly platinum dye job."

"I'll have you kno-"

Professor McGonagall slammed down a bunch of marking on Malfoy's desk with a loud _**bang**_. The two first years looked up, noticing her for the first time. "Since you two are feeling so _chatty_ , you can spend some more time together in detention." Malfoy groaned. "And five points from Slytherin for audacity Mr Malfoy." The other Slytherins in the room turned their glares towards them.

* * *

Hermione was freaking out, but she tried to maintain a cool outward front. Malfoy was not helping.

Pinching his nose and pulling a disgusted face, he whispered, "is that your _sweat_ Granger? I thought even _you_ would be more civilised than that."

"Shut. Up." She hissed at him, trying to pull away down the hill to Hagrid's cabin, where their teacher had told them to report for detention after dinner, but he grabbed her sleeve and yanked her back.

"First detention, Goody Two-Shoes? I bet you're wetting yourself with shame." A howl echoed from the forest down below and Malfoy jumped, a fearful expression on his face.

"Who's wetting themselves now," she muttered loud enough for him to hear as she marched down the hill.

At the bottom, she was infuriated to see Potter and his ever present sidekick. Just great. The three people she really did not want to spend an evening with. "Can we get this over with?" Hermione asked in a sugary sweet voice to the half-giant in charge of their punishment.

Hagrid, who looked somewhat upset, wiped his eyes and said, "uh yeah. Let's head inter the forest."

"The _**forbidden**_ forest?" Hermione clarified.

"Students aren't allowed," said Malfoy. "And there are... werewolves."

The ginger one leant closer. "Are you snakes scared of the dark? Your mummy's not here to hold your hand Malfoy."

The teasing was just as immature as Malfoy's, but it did give her an idea. "This school is a walking health hazard, but this is just ridiculous. You _can't_ take a bunch of children into an out of bounds area with dangerous creatures that could maul or kill them."

"They're not-"

Hermione continued on as if the groundskeeper hadn't spoken. "You death wish Gryffindors can go with your friend Hagrid the friendly giant if you want, but you can't force Malfoy and I. And if you do, you'll be hearing from his father. Lucius Malfoy is the chair of governors at this school you know. I do believe that role can file for the removal of staff..." Apparently stunned at her display, Hagrid just stared at her for a few seconds before he gestured for Potter and Weasley to follow behind him.

"What should we write for our lines?" Malfoy's usually frustrating, but currently somewhat amusing voice called after the trio, though he didn't receive a reply.

As they walked back up to the castle in silence his lips began to move and speak some unintelligible words. "Talking to yourself Malfoy?"

He glared at her. "I said 'not too bad.'" A compliment of the highest order. "For a mudblood."

* * *

The boys dragged her down to the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw match, even though they weren't playing. This time she went straight to her book, but she glanced up when she heard them wondering where Potter was. "Do you think he got kicked off the team?" Asked Malfoy excitedly.

"I heard he's in the hospital wing," Millicent Bulstrode, another girl in her dorm room, told them conspiratorially. They all looked at her expectantly for further explanation.

" _I_ heard it's because he and Weasley snuck onto the third floor and got attacked." A second year, feeling pity for them, supplied.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Serves them right. Those two need a babysitter. They can't stay away from forbidden places, can they."

"I heard he killed Quirrell," another added. They all shrugged. "No loss really."

* * *

The End of Term feast was a time for celebration, at least for the house of green. Their colours decorated the hall and they grinned and chatted happily to each other. When Dumbledore officially announced them as the winners Snape clapped more than anyone, though Hermione observed with amusement his face didn't shift. It was even better that the Gryffindors were in last place. But then. Oh but then.

"Yes, yes, well done Slytherin. However..." everyone at their table looked between each other with panic. What was going on? "Recent events must be taken into account, and I have a few last minute points to award." The Gryffindors' heads all snapped over to their lord and master, and Hermione very nearly growled. Don't do it. Don't do it. "To Miss Sally-Anne Perks-"

"Who?!" Hissed Malfoy.

"For cool use of intellect, while others were in grave peril, fifty points." As the ginger girl blushed, the Slytherins ground their teeth. "Second, to Mr Ronald Weasley, for the best played game of chess that Hogwarts has seen this many years-" This time there were several audible outraged squawks of _"chess?"_ "Fifty points. And third, to Mr Harry Potter, for pure nerve, and outstanding courage-"

"Don't do it old man," Theo begged.

"I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

"We're bloody tied!" Exclaimed Blaise furiously, but Dumbledore wasn't done yet.

"And finally, it takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies, but far more to stand up to your friends. I award ten points to Mr Neville Longbottom." The banners all around the room rolled up magically and were replaced by scarlet and gold. All around her, her friends looked like they were struggling to contain their tears. As Hermione looked up to the ceiling she remembered the wonder she'd felt in September. Now all she felt was a burning fury at this cruel injustice. She vowed in that moment that another school year would never end this way.


	3. Second Year

_**Second Year:**_

Over the summer holidays between their first and second years, Hermione and Daphne kept in contact through the Greenglass family owl, who would surely have gotten quite fat from all the treats both girls gave him had they not sent him back and forth as often as they did. When they received their supply lists, Daphne invited Hermione to come to Diagon Alley with her family, a trip that she felt nervous over for days, despite what Daphne had said about her mother.

Mrs Greenglass had said she would pick her up, and Hermione wondered with a blind panic as she lay in bed the night before if it would be on a broomstick, but when the family pulled up outside her house in a shiny grey car she felt her heartbeat relax a little. Her father, on the other hand, not so much. "That's a Jaguar XJ200!" He exclaimed from his position behind Hermione, peering out the window in wonder. His wife pulled him back, dragging him over to the door to meet Mrs Greenglass. The woman in question was tall and unapproachably regal looking, but she had a warm smile, praised the tea Mrs Granger gave her and made conversation easily, even with Hermione's dentist parents, who you'd have thought she'd had little in common with. "I'd love to talk to you again soon," Mrs Greenglass said, passing them the number for the phone she apparently did own, "but we should be going girls."

Daphne's sister Astoria was quite the opposite of her mother, standing in the background, surly. Hermione eventually abandoned attempting to bond with her and instead asked her friend "who's this Gilderoy Lockhart? Seven out of eight of the required books this year are his."

"He's dreamy..." Daphne sighed, which got an eye roll from Astoria and a chuckle from her mother, though Mrs Greenglass didn't object.

"I heard he's doing a book signing at Flourish and Botts today-"

"Oh Mum! I love you!" Daphne squealed. Hermione did a double take. This guy must be very attractive to elicit such a response.

* * *

The four of them went first to Flourish and Blotts, per Daphne's request, where unfortunately a large rabble had already built up. Hermione tried to peer around the crowd to no avail. "Louisa," greeted a formal sounding voice behind them as an almost white haired man kissed Mrs Greenglass' hand. He was Malfoy's father, she realised, as she saw her classmate trailing behind him. The man nodded to her children. "Daphne. Astoria." Then his eyes fell upon Hermione and a palpable tension filled their little corner of the room. "I don't believe we've met, Miss...?"

"Granger." Hermione answered.

"I don't believe I recognise that name," Mr Malfoy said and she shrugged.

"I'm Muggleborn," at the look of distaste on his face she rose herself higher, making her eyes cold- she couldn't very well look down her nose at this tall man, so it was the best she could do. "The first in Slytherin in over a hundred years."

Whatever Mr Malfoy was going to say next was put on hold when he spotted a target he clearly couldn't resist heading towards- the Weasleys and their Potter refugee. "Is that-?" Hermione jerked her head in the direction of a small fiery looking ginger.

"Another one," Daphne confirmed.

"Taking in strays now Arthur?" Mr Malfoy sneered. "I must commend you on the sturdiness of your building. I had thought one more body and the sticks holding your hovel of a home together would collapse under the weight." His son snatched a second hand copy of A Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, and eerily mimicked his father's sneer before chucking it back at the eleven year old Weasley.

"Mr Gilderoy Lockhart!" they all turned to see an, admittedly gorgeous, man emerge from behind curtains. From beside her, Daphne let out a satisfied sigh, and Hermione herself found a sappy smile making its way onto her face as this man who oozed charisma made his way forward, shooting dazzling smiles at each and every person in the room as they clapped for him. A reporter with a camera shoved past her, snapping his picture for the Daily Profit, but suddenly Lockhart's blinding smile slipped. He seemed to have spotted someone or something in the crowd, and as Hermione craned to see who it was, she felt the veil shatter around her, her anger beginning to rise again. "Harry Potter!" Cried out Lockhart genially as if they were old friends and the reporters nudged the Boy who Lived forwards.

"Two celebrities in one place!" A teenage girl a little way away exclaimed. "This is the best day of my life!" Needless to say, it was not the best day of Hermione's.

* * *

"Where's Potter?" Malfoy questioned them at the welcome feast, his eyes fixing on the Gryffindor table where sat three Weasleys, but not the one in their year, nor his best friend.

Hermione wasn't fond of Potter either, but Malfoy was unhealthily obsessed, it had been all he'd talked about for the train ride here. She considered briefly Malfoy as a childish schoolboy, pulling the pigtails of the girl he had a crush on, and almost spat out her pumpkin juice in amusement. "I'll tell you later," she promised Daphne as explanation, at the other girl's confused look.

* * *

The next morning they, and the rest of the student body, discovered where the two trouble-making Gryffindors had been when a screech owl crashed into a dish at their table, causing the whole hall to laugh and look over. "It's a howler!" Blaise informed her with an impish look of delight on his face when he saw the red envelope.

"Go on Weasley!" Yelled Malfoy across the hall. "Let's hear what your mummy has to say!"

Weasley glared at him but opened the letter with shaking hands. All of a sudden it began to yell, "RONALD WEASLEY! HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR?"

"What car?" Asked Vincent, only to be loudly shushed by everyone else.

"I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED. YOUR FATHER'S NOW FACING AN ENQUIRY AT WORK," At this, Malfoy wrung his hands in delight. "AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" The Slytherins cackled in delight.

* * *

After their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson with Professor Lockhart, which started with Hermione blushing at his accomplishments and ended with her shooting a spell at escaped Cornish Pixies from behind an overturned desk, Malfoy dragged them all outside. "Drakieee," Pansy whined, tugging at his arm. "My new shoes are getting mud all over them."

"Yeah 'Drakie'," Hermione said in a teasing voice. "Where are we going anyway?"

"Feel free to head back inside Granger," he returned. "The invite wasn't actually extended to you."

"Well I'm here now." She frowned, looking up at the Quidditch stands. "What are we doing here? We already spend too much time watching this stupid game." Malfoy ignored her, heading into the stands with Pansy on his arm like a weed and Vince and Greg flanking him. Hermione and the others marched behind them.

The Gryffindors were practising, but Flint and the rest of his emerald green and silver robed team were on the ground. When the team captain spotted the group of popular second years, he grinned, revealing his less than stellar canines. He could do with seeing Lockhart's dentist. "There's the man of the hour!" He roared and one of the others wrapped a cape around Malfoy. Theo nudged Blaise, pointing to the team's new matching brooms, "Nimbus 2001's" he whispered in shock. She smirked, subconsciously drawing a parallel between this moment and when her father first saw Daphne's mother's car. _Boys would be boys_ , no matter their age or blood status, apparently. Theo turned to Malfoy. "Those aren't even out yet mate."

"My father has connections," the smug bastard said, but Hermione couldn't deny she revelled in the distracted and outraged look on Potter's face when he got close enough for his awful eyes to make out the superior model to his own forbidden broomstick. And so what if his complaints that Malfoy only got on the team because of the gift were accurate? It didn't slow down the brooms.

* * *

Hallowe'en was the best holiday for many of the sly trickster-y types in Slytherin, so it was a holiday to look forward to. They decorated the common room and caused havoc all over the castle; from spewing fake blood onto a bunch of unknowing Hufflepuff first years to a group of older students transfiguring Lockhart's mirror into a snake. On the 31st of October they had the annual Hallowe'en feast. Live bats swooped in the great hall, Hagrid had carved Hermione-sized pumpkins, and black cauldrons at all four corners of the hall were overflowing with colourful magical sweets.

His face stuffed with sweets, Vince asked something unintelligible. "Chew. Swallow. Speak." Hermione instructed. He did so.

"What do you think Dumbledore's got planned for the entertainment?"

"Hm," Daphne considered. "Last year it got interrupted by that lunatic Quirrell."

Blaise nodded. "No such interruptions this year, fingers crossed."

Theo leant forwards. "My cousin said that two years ago they had the ghosts all fly in formation."

"There was rumours Dumbledore booked dancing skeletons," Pansy input.

"I'd rather see dancing Weasels," Hermione giggled. Malfoy peered over at the table on the other side of the hall.

"They're not here again," he said, his expression sour. Not this again...

"Maybe they're-" Malfoy got to his feet suddenly.

Pansy looked horrified. "Drakie! Where are you going?"

Malfoy glared down at her. "To find them. Obviously." The others glanced between each other nervously, before cautiously getting up and following behind Malfoy, who was a difficult man to keep up with when he was on a mission.

"Where are you hoping to find them Draco?" Theo asked as they climbed the stairs. "This is a pretty big castle. They could be anywhere."

Blaise nodded his agreement. "Maybe we shoul-" he came to a sudden stop, shielding Hermione as Theo did the same for Daphne. Malfoy was slower to get to Pansy and she let out an earth shattering scream that dragged Filch over, moaning until he saw the sight that awaited him. Hermione peered around Blaise's arms as Vince and Greg were peering through their hands, and covered her mouth in horror at what she saw.

The caretaker's cat hung from a torch bracket with a look of abject horror on its face, beside a message written on the wall in what appeared to be blood: **THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.**

* * *

"It has to be Potter," Malfoy declared. Of course. "He was gone during the feast and conveniently shows up in the corridor moments afterwards. There's rumours been going around that he's a Parseltongue," he looked towards her and added in a condescending tone, "-that means he can speak to snakes, Granger." She threw Pansy's hairbrush at him for that comment. "And everyone knows he's more of an owl person. He treats that thing like a child."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Your Potter bias is blinding you. Do you seriously think he's morally or practically capable of that type of _advanced_ _**dark**_ magic?"

"Maybe he got someone else to cast the spell." Salazar, that boy could not admit when he was wrong. There _was_ a way to prove him wrong though. Hermione suggested they use polyjuice potion to transform into Potter's friends and get the truth out of him, to which Malfoy snorted disbelievingly. "There's no way _you_ can make _that_."

"I guess we'll see." She snapped, and spun on her heel, storming away.

* * *

After getting a signature from Lockhart, finding the instructions in a book from the Restricted Section and asking Snape in her sweetest most conniving way for the use of his classroom and ingredients to do some advanced potions work, Hermione began brewing the potion which would take a month to make.

In the meantime there was a Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match to look forward to. _Yay._

As they stood in the stands, her with ears plugged to try to focus on her book, she felt a nudge. Growling, she took out an earplug. " **What**?"

"Was that you?" Daphne pointed to the ball, bulgie or something, which appeared to only be targeting one Harry Potter.

Hermione held up her hands. "Innocent of all charges," and then quickly grabbed her book again before she lost the page.

Unfortunately, despite Potter's misfortune the vermin still managed to catch the snitch. Everyone ignored Malfoy for a whole day, until Theo broke.

"Mate, you have problems!" He burst out as they waited for Professor Sprout to arrive. "The odds were stacked entirely against Potter, and if you hadn't been so obsessed with insulting the Boy Who Lived To Frustrate You, you could have easily caught the snitch."

Pansy quickly came to her, _whatever they were_ 's defence. "My Drakie tried his best!" But even _her Drakie_ had the class to look a little ashamed.

After a pregnant pause Daphne, ever the peacemaker, said "At least Potter ended up in the hospital wing."

* * *

A duelling club provided, or at least she hoped, a chance for her to let her anger out whilst learning some new skills, but the first meeting consisted of Snape and Lockhart demonstrating the simple disarming charm, before they paired Malfoy and Potter, to demonstrate again in front of them all, **only the disarming charm**. Yeah right. Like that was ever going to happen. Hermione kept her eyes glued on Malfoy, waiting for him to slyly attack before the end of the countdown. Imagine her shock when it was Potter that yelled _"Rictusempra!"_ when their teacher was only on 2. Not a very Slytherin charm, the tickling curse, but certainly a slimy way to attack. Not very sporting, or Gryffindor.

When Malfoy had recovered from his doubled over laughing position, he forced himself up and shot the _serpensortia_ curse at his opponent. _Subtle_. Still, Hermione watched entranced as Potter began to speak in a strange tongue and the snake Malfoy had sent his way slowly slithered towards Justin Finch-Fletchley. Everyone in the room seemed frozen as they watched in shock, until the snake finally relented and her head of house obliterated it into a black cloud of smoke.

* * *

"I told you!" Malfoy declared at the top of his lungs like a toddler singing "na-na-na-na-na!"

His celebrations were interrupted by the poltergeist Peeves floating into the room. "JUSTIN FINCH-FLETCHLEY WAS JUST FOUND PETRIFIED, WITH THE GRYFFINDOR GHOST!" He cackled.

"Harry Potter was caught red handed!" A boy following behind bellowed, before the two raced off to spread the news.

Malfoy let out a relaxed sigh, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded behind his head. "I don't think I'll be needing that potion Granger, maybe you could use it to disguise your stinky blood." Daphne shot him a look, which he pointedly ignored. "Potter's already taken down that first year stalker and the Hufflepuff. Clearly, he's following his ancestor's legacy and ridding the school of _mudbloods_ like yourself." He wasn't done yet. "Last time the chamber was opened my father said a mudblood **died**." His harsh inflection of the word caused several others to look up. "It's only a matter of time..." Daphne put a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder, but she just let out a shaky exhale, brushed it away, and headed back to her dorm as the sounds of the others chastising the ferret faded.

* * *

"Tell me why we're doing this again," Malfoy protested.

Hermione glared at him. "None of your evidence is concrete. Look, just think of this as an opportunity to once and for all prove me wrong... or I could go get someone else to play Weasley..."

He took the potion and downed it, with her doing the same. "Eurgh..." Malfoy moaned after he transformed, staring at her in horror. She raised her eyebrows. "The Weaselette's even uglier up close." He shivered. "And I think this blood traitor skin is giving me a rash."

"Shut up!" She hissed. "We only have an hour." The boys had slipped a sleeping draught to the Weasley siblings and stashed them in a cupboard, where they would later wake up intertwined, while Pansy and Daphne had listened for the password to enter the common room. Surprisingly, it was neither 'hope', nor 'Slytherins suck' but 'Wattlebird'. Hermione shook her head with distaste as she said it.

She had to blink when she entered the common room due to the blinding scarlet and gold, and the light spilling into the room. It was very different from the dark, moody dungeons. She scanned the room quickly and found Potter isolated in a chair by the fireplace, sulking by the looks of it. Apparently even his own house believed him to be the heir. Yanking on Malfoy's arm, they approached. Potter looked ecstatic to see them. "Ron! Ginny! Where have you been?"

"Detention. Snape." She said, rolling her eyes. "The git." Potter nodded his agreement.

"Oi Harry," said the ever impatient Malfoy as they sat down, though she had to admit, his speech was convincingly Weasel-ish. "Hate to admit it, but the evidence is kind of stacked against you for being the heir."

Potter shook his head vehemently. "Like I told you earlier, I told that snake to back down, not approach." He sighed, unconsciously running a hand through his black mop of hair to expose the lightning bolt on his forehead. "Besides, what grudge would _I_ hold against muggleborns? My mother was a muggleborn." His face cracked and Hermione mentally crossed her fingers. _Please no mummy tears. Please no mummy tears._ Thankfully, his face hardened. "It _has_ to be Malfoy. Everyone in his family has been in Slytherin, maybe he can even control snakes. He _did_ shoot that one at me in the duelling club. And he despises muggleborns- he uses that slanderous term against them, _even Granger_ , and she's supposed to be his friend."

* * *

"We're not friends," Malfoy clarified as they re-entered the dungeons after the long silent walk back.

"I know." She said. "But Potter made some good points, and you know how much he loves those Weasleys. He'd never lie to them. You, on the other hand, have every reason to be the heir."

Malfoy scowled at her. "I'm not the bloody heir... I wish I was. But I'm not."

* * *

Four months passed with no other petrification until one evening Daphne ran over to where the boys were discussing Quidditch strategies. "Have you seen Hermione?" She questioned them.

Draco shrugged. "I assume she's in the library with several books stuck up her ass."

"Would you stop being a pompous dickhead for a second?" Daphne railed. Draco did a double take, she rarely got angry, or at least showed it. Her face was always a typical Pure-blood's mask. "If you boys hadn't been so entranced with tactic talking you'd have noticed the library closed almost two hours ago, and you have to be in your dorm in ten minutes."

Draco sighed. "Too bad... guess we can't go looking for the mudblood." Daphne grabbed his arm and pulled him up.

"Oh we're going looking alright."

* * *

When they reached Dumbledore's office, the old man was leaving it. He didn't chastise them for being out of their common room so close to curfew, simply looked at them sympathetically.

"Hermione's missing sir," Daphne informed the headmaster, who offered her a fricking lemon drop. Couldn't he see she was distressed?

"Not missing, Miss Greenglass," he corrected. "You will find Miss Granger in the hospital wing."

"She's been petrified?" Theo asked, as Daphne clapped a hand over her mouth in despair. "Haven't you been working on a cure?" Of course not, at least not successfully. This man was a disgrace to magical education.

"My father will be hearing about this," Draco promised. If the others were surprised to hear him voice his support they didn't show it. Instead, they all headed down to the hospital wing, where their bushy haired housemate lay petrified.

Blaise took the seat beside her and leant down as if he was going to kiss her! Draco raised shocked eyebrows, but it was Theo who stepped in. "Oi, mate! That is not okay."

"True love's kiss only works in fairytales- and her first kiss isn't gonna be while she's unconscious." Daphne vowed, yanking Blaise away, then when the others were leaving she whispered in Draco's ear "you're welcome." Before he could question her on what he was supposed to be thanking her for she was gone, leaving him alone in the room with Granger and the other petrified students. Draco started to turn as well but on a whim, lips pursed, approached her.

"You're an idiot," he whispered. "Obviously they'd target you- you're the most famous mudblood in years. Stupid of you to go off alone." He sighed. "I _am_ going to write to my father. Mudblood or not, Dumbledore puts the students at risk, he needs to be removed." He glanced at her one last time, his brow furrowing when he saw her clenched fists.

"Mr Malfoy," Madame Pomfrey called, her voice dripping with disapproval. "Off to bed with you." Quickly, he prised open Granger's grip and read the single word on the slip of paper as the matron pushed him out of the room.

 _ **Basilisk**_.

* * *

"What's a bazooka?"

Theo knocked Vince about the head. "A _**basilisk**_ ," said Draco pointedly. "Is the king of all serpents. It kills people by looking at them in the eyes. Like Medusa."

"So all the people who were petrified must have found a way to look at it... without looking at it." Daphne surmised. "Like in a reflection-"

"Or through film," Blaise added, clearly thinking of the first year Gryffindor.

"Or through a ghost," finished Pansy as she flipped onto the sofa. They all glanced up at her, surprised to see her. "What? I want to help solve the mystery too... and Granger's not so bad... I guess."

Draco took out the piece of paper again, squinting at the hurried scribble in the corner. Granger had bad handwriting on a good day, but this was atrocious. She must have written it in a panic when the beast arrived. "Is that a _p_?" He asked Theo.

His friend made a face. "Could be a _t_."

"That's definitely an _l_ though," Pansy pointed.

Daphne leaned over as well. "Or an undotted _i_."

" _Pipes_." Said Greg, as if it were obvious. They all looked at him. "I've looked at her writing enough from copying her homework. It definitely says pipes." Well how the bloody hell did that help them?

They all thought for a few minutes, the word _'pipes'_ just reverberating throughout their heads until it became meaningless. Finally Pansy of all people, made a suggestion. "In one of the muggle magazines Granger gave me for Christmas there was a story about a snake coming up a toilet through the pipes-"

"And the Basilisk is a snake." Draco pondered, "but which toilet? Hogwarts has plenty, we can't exactly search them all."

"The first floor girls lavatory opposite the Great Hall." Daphne said automatically. "It's been out of order ever since a girl was killed there years ago. And the message appeared near there."

They raced down to the lavatory, but on the way they found another message below the first: **HER SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER**. "Another victim?" Suggested Blaise.

"Seems likely," Daphne grimaced. "And it also seems they didn't happen to have a mirror or a ghost to look through." Despite the message they continued down to the lavatory, where they fanned out.

"What are we looking for?" Asked Vince.

"Anything unusual," Replied Daphne before Draco could get in a witty retort.

At the sound of a flushing toilet they all glanced towards the empty stalls, watching as a ghost with childish pigtails glided out of the toilet and came to circle them.

"Piss off back to your pisspot," Draco ordered, resulting in a glower.

"Those other boys were much nicer."

"What other boys?" Pansy questioned, but the ghost mimicked zipping her mouth shut. _They did not have time for this._

"Guys!" Vince called. "Is this unusual?" The group crowded around and nodded fervently when they spotted the snake design on the tap. Blaise turned it and they all stepped back, expecting a gaping hole in the floor, or a green portal or something to appear. Nothing. Disappointed, they decided to go tell the teachers. Perhaps they would know how to open the chamber. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, Potter and Weasley chose that moment to appear.

"What are you doing in here?" Asked the Weasel, immediately suspicious.

"We could ask you the same." Theo said, correctly.

The harpy, who'd been pouting on her toilet, flew over and whispered something into Potter's ear. The boy nodded and began to speak in Parseltongue, causing the tap to twist, and the circular arrangement of sinks opened like Draco's mother's walk-in closet, except it contained not robes and formal dresses but a set of dangerous looking stairs. The two Gryffindors took a step forward, but Blaise held out an arm.

"Woah, woah!" He said. "You can't seriously be going down there. You have no idea what's down there."

The ginger one did his best macho-man impersonation. "My sister's down there. The basilisk took 'er."

Draco took a step back, holding out his arms. "Well then, I definitely shan't be risking it to save the Weaselette."

"If your bully of a father hadn't gotten rid of Dumbledore then maybe we wouldn't be in this position."

Draco doubled over, breathless with laughter. The others did the same. "You- he- that is hilarious Potter! You seriously didn't notice that not one, not two, but three students, a pet and a ghost were petrified with your darling Dumbledore here. And he didn't notify the parents, or transfer them to St Mungos, or do anything useful at all!"

"C'mon Ron." Potter drew his friend inside and the sinks closed up again behind them, to cries of "Bon voyage!" And "arrivederci!" From the Slytherins.

Draco and his friends made their way to the teachers to tell them about the chamber, only to discover that they were all in the hospital wing. "You don't think..." Daphne faded off, running towards the room where her best friend resided. Panting and dishevelled, she was the exact opposite of what a perfect Pure-blood princess should be, but it didn't look like it mattered to Theo, or Hermione. Daphne lunged at her friend, squeezing her tightly as they both giggled. One by one they each embraced their lost friend until it came to Draco's turn. "I'm surprised you're here." She told him bluntly. He shrugged. They weren't friends. He'd told her in as many words on several occasions, and this year she hadn't gotten him a Christmas present.

"It was peaceful without you at first," he said. "But then the others wouldn't shut up." She smiled an infuriatingly all-knowing smile.

 _ **Review!**_


	4. Third Year

_**Third Year:**_

The compartment was already pretty full by the time Hermione squeezed in, waving to her friends with one hand as she held the carrier transporting her newly purchased cat in the other. Putting it down, she let out the cat, causing all conversation about the summer holidays to grind to an abrupt halt.

"What is that?" Pansy asked, making a face.

Hermione picked up her cat, cuddling him. "First of all, Crookshanks is a _he_ not a _that_."

"Well, _he_ kind of looks like he ran headfirst into a brick wall," Theo told her. Hermione cradled her cat, whispering at him not to listen to the mean bullies. Crookshanks decided to go on the offensive instead, hissing at Malfoy with passion.

"I swear to Salazar, Granger," Malfoy vowed, "if you don't put that squash faced fiend away I will transfigure it into a nice non-aggressive plant." She bristled, but kissed her pet on the head and then placed him back in his carrier.

"So what options did you guys choose?" Hermione asked, pulling out her timetable. She'd chosen Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, two subjects that were recommended not to be taken together, but her exam results from the past two years had been outstanding, and she knew she could handle it.

"Bloody hell 'Mione," Daphne exhaled in disbelief when she saw Hermione's electives. As she spoke her sister appeared at the door. Without looking up, Daphne said "bye squirt." Astoria glared and marched off, arms crossed protectively across her book of poetry. "She's been trying to convince me to sneak her into Hogsmede all summer," the blonde explained. Hogsmede was the only all wizarding village in Britain, and from third year upwards, students could visit it on select weekends. Hermione was looking forward to experiencing some more wizarding culture aside from Diagon Alley, and the bookshop would of course be exciting. Theo said his cousin had told him there was an excellent pub serving a beverage called butterbeer as well, presumably it was non-alcoholic.

"Hey, Hermione?" Blaise said, greeting her for the first time on the train ride. "I was wondering if you'd like to come to Hogsmede with me... and Theo and Daphne."

She shrugged. "Of course! Who else would I go with? Malfoy?" She stuck her tongue out at the boy across from her, who just shook his head with a loud groan.

Blaise twiddled his thumbs for a few moments before continuing. "I actually meant like, on a date." Daphne caught her eyes and grinned. "A double date... with-Daphne-and-Theo-so-you-don't-have-to-feel-" Hermione put her hand on Blaise's. Where was her suave Italian friend? This was a new, but somewhat endearing side to him.

"Sure." Apparently a weight lifted off his shoulders, Blaise went back to acting like normal, laying a hand over the back of her seat as he chatted with his usual casual ease again. Malfoy, on the other hand, kept shooting her daggers- even more so than usual- until the train stopped. At that point, his look became one that mirrored everyone else's confusion. Daphne and Greg, who held the coveted window seats, attempted to peer outside to see what was going on, but there wasn't a clear reason. Gradually, a feeling of complete and utter despair seemed to cloak the whole train. Hermione attempted to open the door, but it was jammed. A moment later, she leant back into Blaise, eyes widened, when she saw a tall, black cloaked figure gliding along the compartment like a ghost, only in a much more sinister manner. Its skeletal hands pried the door open and its face- if you could call a blank black cloth like substance that- turned to face them.

"Expecto patronum!" Another black hooded figure, but this one clearly human, called. From his wand burst a white wolf-like creature which chased away the original attacker. Hermione watched it in wonder, then when it was gone she looked back to the mysterious caster of the spell.

"Is everyone alright in here?" The man asked. "One of the boys in the next compartment fainted."

"Which boy?" Malfoy chuckled.

The man gave him a once over, a look of recognition crossing his face before he reluctantly admitted, "Harry Potter." Hermione bit her tongue to keep from laughing, aware from his reaction that this man seemed to be in the Potter fan club. Several other people in the compartment were not so controlled. " _What were they?_ " She asked, after sending her most venomous look at the culprits. "Why were they here?"

Still looking disapproving, the man addressed her. "Dementors. The guards at Azkaban. They're looking for Sirius Black. Now I must be going."

Once he'd left she faced the others. She knew who Sirius Black was: how could she not? Escapee from Azkaban- the most threatening, inescapable wizarding prison in the world. Black had murdered a wizard 'friend' of his, along with a dozen innocent by-standing muggles and gained a life sentence. His escape during the summer had been extensively covered both in the Daily Prophet, which she was subscribed too, and the muggle news. The prime minister had even made a statement urging people to contact the authorities if they saw him but NEVER to approach. "Why would he be on this train?" She asked. Who could he have a grudge against here. They would all have been young children, or not even alive, when Black had been arrested.

"He's Potter's godfather," Theo explained. "He must be here for him. My parents said he betrayed the Potters- good on him. He's probably here to murder him for the Dark Lord."

Hermione was in no way part of Potter's fan club, but murder seemed a _little_ extreme.

* * *

"They're not here AGAIN." Malfoy fumed, his eyes fixed on the Gryffindor table. The others began placing bets on where the two Gryffindors could be.

"Look who _is_ here," Theo pointed up to the staff table, where their saviour on the train sat making conversation with McGonagall and... Hagrid? Dumbledore, who'd found his way back to the school, announced that Hagrid would be taking over as Care of Magical Creatures teacher. Hermione guffawed at that. "I bet Arithmancy's not sounding so bad now, huh?" Professor Lupin, as the new teacher was apparently called, was on the receiving end of an entirely undisguised sneer from Snape, who sat at the other end of the table. "I'm guessing there's some history there." Malfoy, as the resident Snape expert, explained that they'd been in the same year and that their new teacher had been part of a group of bullies which included the murderer Sirius Black, Potter's saintly father, and the murdered Peter Pettigrew. "Heavy..." Hermione watched the carefree expression on Lupin's face, searching for signs of regret or remorse.

* * *

"So how was your day?" Hermione asked Greg as she laid out her study materials on the desk for their 'tutoring' session.

"In Divination we had a barmy professor who got us to look into a teacup and read the leaves. I said they looked like a parrot and she told me that means I'm going to learn something that'll challenge the way I think-"

"Well _obviously_ , that's what school's for." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Divination's a load of toss. Arithmancy's a much better, more scientific method. Don't you think Theo?"

Her friend looked up from admiring Daphne as she made up some rubbish about tea leaves and ballerinas. "Uh yeah definitely." _**Boys**_.

Pansy, skimming through the new magazine Hermione had supplied her with, said "the best part was when she went all creepy sounding and said Potter was gonna die."

"That's more like it," Malfoy agreed.

"Then," Greg continued. "In Hagrid's class he brought out this ugly hippo..."

"Griff." Blaise finished for him. "Right hideous thing-"

"And it attacked me for no reason!" Malfoy whined, holding onto his arm. She had been wondering why it was so heavily bandaged, but hadn't wanted to give him attention.

Vincent frowned. "I mean, you did kind of call it ugly and approach it directly when Hagrid told you to-"

"It doesn't matter!" An affronted Malfoy cried. "I'm injured! And I contacted my father immediately of course. Hopefully the oaf'll be back to his normal job, or even better, fired altogether, by week's end, and we'll have a proper teacher." Loath as she was to admit, he did, somewhat, have a point. Hagrid should not be bringing in dangerous creatures to a group of teenagers. And if this was his way of easing into things she dreaded whatever else her friends might have to face.

* * *

Despite what Malfoy had said about Lupin, Hermione was excited for Defence Against the Dark Arts with a teacher who was genuinely powerful and skilled. Her natural curiosity peaked when he wheeled out a cupboard for the Third Year class. He told them that inside was a Boggart, a shape shifter that took the shape of your worst fear. "What's yours Granger?" Murmured Malfoy into her ear. "A spelling test that only got nine out of ten? An overdue library book?"

"What's yours Malfoy?" She shot back speedily. " _Your daddy_?"

To defeat the boggart you had to say the incantation _Riddikulus_ and turn the boggart into something you found amusing. Lupin asked them all to make a line, which Longbottom found himself at the front of after a lot of scuffling. Holding out his wand in front of him, shaking as though he were hypothermic, the boy watched in horror as the doors opened and out strolled Hermione's favourite professor. "Snape?" Giggled Pansy. Teeth chattering, Longbottom said the incantation, and Snape shed his robes to don a pair of lacy pink panties. Blaise quickly covered her eyes as laughter and squeals of horror filled the room.

After a series of giant spiders, cobras, and several iterations of Lord Voldemort, it was Malfoy's turn. Standing stoic, the blond slowly exhaled as the boggart morphed upwards into the tall form of Lucius Malfoy, a sick feeling pooling in Hermione's stomach. Guilt. "Below a mudblood in the class rankings? Beaten by Harry Potter at Quidditch?" With every menacing step the shape of his father took forwards Malfoy shuffled back, until a hand raised to slap him. _"Riddikulus!_ " He shouted, and Malfoy Sr's hair became braided as he cartwheeled around the room. Malfoy didn't laugh.

As he moved to the the back of the line Hermione outstretched her hand to catch him. "Malfoy I'm sor-"

He brushed past her without making eye contact. "Bugger off Granger."

Potter was before her in the line, but before he could say the incantation to the threatening looking dementor in front of him their teacher stepped in, the tall black shape morphing into a glowing white orb. Hermione narrowed her eyes at it, even as the others mocked Potter for not being able to handle his own fear.

* * *

On Hallowe'en weekend it was the first Hogsmede trip. Blaise had apparently visited before, and he delighted in showing her around while Daphne and Theo followed behind them overtly flirting, although after half an hour in the bookshop he grabbed her arm and pulled her outside, saying they wouldn't have any time for butterbeer.

Inside the Three Broomsticks it was warm and packed, but comfy and clean. As the others seated themselves, Theo went to go get their drinks, and returned with four foaming over mugs. As she wrapped a hand around it the warmth radiated through her. Taking a sip, she smiled contentedly. It tasted like less sickly butterscotch, one of her favourite flavours. As they talked she noticed Blaise's body was very close to hers, maybe because of the busyness, maybe for other reasons, but either way, for some reason it made her a little uncomfortable and she attempted to discretely shift away.

* * *

When they returned to school with bags full of sweets, practical jokes (for the boys), clothes (for Daphne) and books (for Hermione), everyone was racing back and forth. Blaise grabbed a Ravenclaw first year as he ran past them. "What's going on?" He questioned.

The little boy stuttered, "Sirius Black's in the castle! He slashed the Fat Lady's portrait and she's gone!"

They all had to go to the Great Hall, where McGonagall was summoning sleeping bags and Flitwick mugs of a warm comforting beverage Hermione didn't recognise. "He's here for Potter," said Daphne confidently, but the slight tremble of her lip betrayed her fear, and Theo wrapped an arm around her. Blaise did the same for Hermione and this time it was welcome, not awkward.

* * *

She wasn't sure what time it was when she woke up, but it was still pitch black. She could hear whispered voices at the head of the hall and footsteps all meeting there.

"...no sign of Black," confirmed Sprout.

"Surely, he must have had some, help, to get into the castle," Snape said carefully. "Perhaps from someone within." That certainly sounded like an accusation. She remembered what Malfoy had said at the beginning of the year, that Lupin and Black had been friends, and had tortured Snape.

Dumbledore said something she couldn't make out, but it didn't sound like agreement.

* * *

As they sat in Defence Against the Dark Arts, Hermione muttered to the boy behind her, "you're really milking this whole injury thing now." He had refused to play Quidditch tomorrow so Gryffindor was going to be playing Hufflepuff instead.

The door swung open and in marched a teacher she hadn't expected to see for another two hours. She turned her head to face the front of the room, where Snape had now arrived. "Turn to page three hundred and ninety four." Everyone in the room obeyed, except the perpetually stupid one.

"Where's Professor Lupin?" Potter demanded.

"Where's Professor Lupin, _**Sir**_ ," Snape corrected.

"You don't have to call me Sir, Professor." At Potter's audacity sounds of shock surfaced briefly, before they all went silent. The boy truly was a masochist.

Snape slowly stalked forwards, pausing at Potter's desk and leaning down to glower at him. Ever the Gryffindor, he jutted his chin out and stared their teacher down. "That's really none of your concern, Potter." Snape snarled eventually. "Let it suffice to say that _Professor_ _Lupin_ is otherwise indisposed." He moved to the back of the classroom and slowly repeated, "turn to page three hundred and ninety four." He sneered. "Or do you want me to take more than ten points from Gryffindor?"

Potter finally turned to the right page, it seemed likely his housemates would have shunned him if he didn't, and Snape started the lesson. Werewolves? Hermione mouthed to Daphne, who shrugged. They'd just begun learning about Red-caps and Hinkypuffs, not that Hermione would be telling Snape that. She had more tact than Potter.

* * *

It was raining during the Quidditch match the next day so Hermione couldn't even read. As she sat sulking, her interest was peaked by the black shapes appearing from behind the back of the stadium, swooping over the top to enter it. She got to her feet, surprised that no-one else had noticed them except Potter. Through the rain, he seemed to lock onto them. They got closer and closer until he fainted, falling from his broomstick. Hermione's eyes widened and she leaned over the railings to try to see him through the downpour. He appeared to be twisted at some weird angle, surely with several broken bones. "Lame," jeered the Slytherins all around her, but Hermione's gaze moved up to the dementors.

* * *

"Sir?" Hermione asked when the rest of the class had hurriedly exited the hell they saw as Double Potions on a Friday afternoon while snow fell outside. They were all hurrying to throw snowballs and roll around in the fresh mounds, but she had more important matters to prioritise. "Do you know the charm to ward off a dementor?"

Snape looked up from his pile of first year essays at his most able student. "Yes Miss Granger, I do. What of it?"

"I was uh..." she fidgeted on the spot, nervous under his judgemental gaze. "Wondering-if-you-could-teach-me."

The potions professor cocked an eyebrow in an amused gesture. "Wouldn't Professor Lupin be a better choice for this type of instruction?"

She shrugged. "He isn't especially fond of Slytherins." Although he didn't show his bias as clearly as Dumbledore, it was still evident. "And I'd rather learn from you, Professor."

Snape, eyes now back on his work, marked a sharp D on the paper. "Very well, I can make time for you for the next few months before dinner on Tuesdays."

Months? "Will it take that long, Sir? It's only one charm."

"The patronus charm is a very advanced spell, Miss Granger. Even many adult wizards cannot cast it. It requires true magical talent, which I do believe you have- the reason why I signed off your challenging electives." A smile quirked at her lips. "But even for you, it will take a long time to learn, and may even be a complete and utter waste of my time."

She smiled cheerfully. "Well I'll see you on Tuesday, Sir." He waved his hand dismissively, but after she'd gone shook his head, the shadow of smile on his face too.

* * *

Breathing hard, Hermione raced down from one end of the school to the other. "No running in the corridors!" Called a Ravenclaw prefect, but he couldn't take points from another house, so she ignored him. She'd rather risk his wrath than Snape's anyway.

Skidding into the Potions classroom, a hand clutching her side where a stitch had built up, Hermione exhaled in relief when she saw Snape wasn't behind his desk. "You're late." She gritted her teeth and clenched her eyes shut in frustration before spinning on her heel. "I am giving up my valuable time for this, Miss Granger. If you're going to be wasting it I can always withdraw my courteous offer."

"No! I mean... I am dedicated, Professor." She promised passionately. "I won't be late again." And she wouldn't. Even if she had to ditch the last ten minutes of Ancient Runes to get here on time.

Apparently believing her vow, Snape gave a sharp nod and then made his way to the front of the classroom. He told her about the Patronus charm, explained how to cast it, and produced a Boggart for her to practise on. "Expecto patronum." Hermione whispered, her eyes narrowed in focus on the happy memory she'd chosen. Nothing happened.

"No, no, no," Said Snape. "You have to have some _power_ behind it." She tried again, this time shouting the charm, and again, this time her frustration more evident. "It has to be a _happy_ memory, Miss Granger." Snape reminded her. "Not something that makes you want to tear your hair out. Is there not one speck of light in that dull monotonous life you lead?" Not that she could think of. "Well, if you can arrive on time we'll try again after Christmas. Do try to hurry it up- I had to acquire this creature from Lupin, and I don't particularly like to ask for things from my enemies."

* * *

She spent all of the Christmas holidays, except when her parents dragged her down for celebrations, studying for her many subjects. At night as she lay in bed she backtracked through her fourteen years of life to try to find something powerful and joyful enough to work for the Patronus charm, but most people's lives were more like a series of 'fine' days than a rollercoaster of emotion, albeit she'd had several troughs.

Finally on the last day of the holidays as she was searching through her possessions in despair, praying something would send a jolt of pure ecstasy through her, she glanced up at her framed Hogwarts letter. The day it had come she'd just had a tour of the secondary school she would have gone to had she not known she was a witch. It was fine; grubby lockers, a bustling canteen, a newly renovated sports field, but Hogwarts was like something from a fantasy novel. Her acceptance letter had sent her running to her parents, who hugged her proudly, overflowing with joy for her despite having no idea what was going on. And the best part of all, she'd finally known what was wrong with her. She'd never belonged in the muggle world, had been bullied and ostracised, and now she knew that while she'd be off in a Scottish castle learning magic and making friends who understood her, her childhood tormentors would be struggling with PE and Maths, they'd never make anything of themselves. Yes, how could she not have thought of it before- this was her happiest memory by far.

* * *

 ** _"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_** This time when Hermione cast the spell a powerful white light shone out of her wand, forming a shield like cloud of mist shape. Snape subconsciously sat up straight in his seat from his previous bored, lounging position. The Boggart was repelled a little, and within seconds the shield disappeared, leaving her breathless, but she'd done it. _She'd cast a Patronus._

Panting, she looked to Snape, who stood from his chair and approached to put the Boggart away. "Mediocre, and uncorporeal, but progress." He admitted, and she very nearly hugged him.

* * *

Another Quidditch match, another downpour of rain. Hermione let out a huff, but smirking, Pansy jogged her arm. "You're gonna wanna watch this."

"Where are the boys?" She asked, suddenly realising the ones that had dragged them along had disappeared. Pansy and Daphne exchanged an amused look and pointed up. Hermione followed their gesture to see five 'Dementors' in the stands. "Really?" She groaned at the immaturity of it all, and rested her chin on her hand, but she almost punched herself scrambling up when she saw a Patronus make its way from Potters wand to her where her friends stood. " _Seriously?_ " She cried out in frustration.

* * *

After another attempted break in by Sirius Black the castle was on red alert again. It turned out that Longbottom had a list of passwords for the Gryffindor common room and Black had somehow found it and gotten inside. Malfoy took every opportunity to torment the forgetful boy and cackle about his idiocy. "No more stupid than you lot dressing up as dementors to scare Potter." Hermione muttered one day as they walked across the grounds to their next class.

"Jealous you weren't involved in the plot Granger?" Malfoy sneered.

Scratching his head, Vincent admitted, "You _are_ always rushing around."

"I don't care that I wasn't a part of your stupid plan!" She denied.

Malfoy tipped his head. "Maybe not, but I bet it just reminds you that you're always on the outside. Because of your blood, because of your choices, whatever you want to say- _you'll never be a real witch_." She punched him right in his pretty boy face and stormed away.

* * *

Luckily, it was exam season and Hermione could utterly immerse herself in revision. On the last day of exams though, she no longer had that excuse to hide behind. "Hermione!" Daphne's voice called. She continued walking forward. " _Hermione!_ " The blonde grabbed her arm, pulling her to the side of the hustle and bustle of the end of the day. "We haven't talked in weeks," when she saw Hermione open her mouth to deny it she corrected herself. "Not like we used to. You've spent even more time than usual in the library, I'm guessing to avoid the common room, and you've even skipped some meals. Look, what Draco said, he didn't mean it." Hermione almost snorted. She was a thousand percent sure he had meant it. "You're the Brightest Witch of our Age. You're so much better than tonnes of Pure-bloods who grew up surrounded by magic."

Hermione pulled away. "Lovely as this apology is, Daph, it should be his not yours." She dove into the crowds before her dorm-mate could stop her, and made her way outside, along with many others who wanted to enjoy the summer sun, at least by Scottish standards of sun. She wasn't really sure where she was going as she meandered aimlessly, until she sat down at the top of a hill looking down upon Hagrid's hut. Today was the day of Buckbeak's execution. As she watched the executioner approach the creature she couldn't help but feel sorry for it. It was Hagrid's fault that it was dying, and it shouldn't have to be the one being punished. Just another victim of Draco Malfoy, she thought dryly. When the deed was done she just continued to sit there for a while, watching scarlet tones slowly imbue themselves into the previously clear blue sky. _Red sky at night, shepherd's delight. Red sky in the morning, shepherd's warning_ , her mother had always said. If it was true it meant tomorrow would be sunny- hopefully figuratively as well as literally.

Hermione's peaceful contemplation of life was interrupted by a howl of pain. Affronted, she turned her head and saw Potter peering down into the Whomping Willow. "Don't worry Ron! I'm coming for you!" He called and then dropped into a passage. Getting to her feet, Hermione rolled her eyes. What else could those boys do to that poor tree?

What she did next was, admittedly, thick. She supposed it was the Gryffindor in her that the hat had identified three years ago. With one last glance to check no-one was looking, she followed Potter into the Whomping Willow.

* * *

It was dark down there, but she followed the scuffle of footsteps and, oddly, the bark of a dog?

At the end of the passageway there appeared to be a small light and, eagerly, Hermione moved towards it, only to bump into Potter. He turned around, wand outstretched but she easily batted it away with her own wand in a dismissive manner. "What are you doing down here Granger?" He hissed but, rudely, didn't let her answer. Instead he hurried towards the end of the passageway.

It came out into a room, if one could call it that; dust hung over everything, paper peeled from the walls, stains decorated the floors in place of carpet. The light she'd seen was from a single candle that burned dimly, all the windows were boarded up. Weasley was deposited ungraciously on the floor, being guarded, it seemed by a black dog, which was barking aggressively at a rat across from it. "Scabbers?" Let out Weasley in a weak little voice when he saw the rat, who scampered over to his master and hid in Ron's pocket. They all watched in horror as the dog morphed into a man, and not just any man. _Sirius Black._ In moments, Potter raced towards him, angrily attacking this grown man, apparently forgetting both that he was a teenager and, more usefully, a wizard. Hermione, who was not so forgetful, shot a quick _"IMMOBULUS!"_ at Black, freezing him in position. Hearing footsteps coming from the other direction she attempted the charm again, but Lupin blocked it. "You!" She accused as his face came into the light. "You're Black's accomplice. You're a werewolf!"

Both Potter and Weasley were shaking their heads vehemently. "What the bloody hell are you talking about? Lupin's not a-"

"I'm afraid she's right Mr Weasley," Lupin admitted sombrely. The Patronus, the Boggart, Snape's DADA lesson, the recurring illness. She'd had her suspicions, but it had all come together for her when she saw Black transform from an animal to a human, had suggested to her that it was possible in a way. "At least partially. I _am_ a werewolf, but I'm not helping Black."

"Why should we believe you?" Questioned Hermione. Her teacher drew out a map he said he'd confiscated from Potter that apparently showed where everyone in the school was. He'd suspected the boys would come down to witness Buckbeak's execution after curfew, but when he saw the name of a man who was supposed to be dead he'd followed them down. Peter Pettigrew. The wizard Black had supposedly murdered. "He can't be alive," Hermione exclaimed. "There were witnesses!" Lupin explained how, when his friends had found out about his 'condition', they'd become Animagi to support him; Black a dog, Potter a stag, Pettigrew... a rat. The three students looked between each other, and Hermione unfroze Black.

"It's him!" The shaggy looking wizard declared. When he saw Lupin he turned to his old friend. "You have to believe me, Moony, it's Wormtail." He spat out the name, then turned to Potter. "He's the one who betrayed your parents, for his master, He Who Must Not Be Named. When I broke out I got hold of a newspaper and recognised his rat form with _you_." He pointed to Ron, who had a look of abject horror and despair as he clutched the rat that was desperately trying to escape him. "I came here to avenge your parents Harry. The slimy rat framed me all those years ago by cutting off his finger, changing back to a rat and slithering away to his master." Something in his eyes, and his logic, told Hermione he was telling the truth. So the five of them made their way back up to the castle, with Black carrying Weasley, who was carrying the rat. They'd just made it out of the tree when Lupin began to buck.

"Professor?" Potter put a hand to his favourite teacher's shoulder, but Hermione pulled him back.

"Get away Potter!" She ordered. As he struggled, she forced him to look up at the perfect round orb in the sky, the soundtrack of every bone in Lupin's body breaking accompanied the perfectly clear black sky, and then an animalistic howl. Eyes wide, Hermione clutched onto Potter's robe sleeve as they edged back as though away from a dangerous big cat, cooing at it so it wouldn't attack.

Black had lain Weasley down a little way away and stepped in front of the two other teenagers, hands outstretched. It didn't stop the wolf from leaping at him and scratching him. She let out a little shriek when it did and pulled tighter on Potter's robe, not that he seemed to have noticed she was even holding it. Dark shapes began to descend from every angle like avenging angels driving the werewolf away into the forest, except they weren't angels but demons. Or rather: dementors. Subconsciously, the three still standing began to retreat, forming a circle around the helpless Weasley. She'd never seen this many at once. There must be at least a hundred. Pulling her wand out of her shoe, Hermione pointed her wand out with a shaking hand and saw Potter do the same out of her peripheral vision. In harmony, they bellowed, **_"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_**

Before she passed out, she felt a surge of power and strength go through her, manifesting itself in the otter that charged into battle beside the stag.

* * *

"...ink she's waking up." Sounds swam around her as if she were underwater, and then she surfaced, eyes snapping open. Her friends were all gathered around the bed. Peering through them, she could see Potter, still unconscious, on the bed next to her, with Weasley just beyond him. Black was nowhere to be seen. "You're making a habit of this now 'Mione," Blaise said, as he gently pushed back some hair from her face.

On her other side, Daphne clutched her hand, tears brimming in her eyes. "Thank god you're okay. When I heard you'd been brought here I was so worried. Especially with the way we left things-"

"I'm not mad at _you_ ," Hermione interrupted, looking pointedly over to where Malfoy sat scowling in an uncomfortable looking chair. He met her gaze, both of them with a challenge in their eyes, until Theo moved over and kicked him. Hard.

"You want me to apologise? Fine!" Malfoy stalked over and leaned over her. "I'm sorry you have such a huge stick up your ass that you can't recognise a joke when it slaps you across the face." His hand moved to his cheek then, the bruise still there. "I'm sorry you feel so insecure about your sub-par looks that you feel the need to destroy my godlike face." Daphne let out an unladylike noise. "And most importantly Hermione, I'm sorry that you decided to do something so foolish as go on an adventure with Pothead and his all-singing, all-dancing sidekick so that my beauty sleep could be interrupted by the girls screeching about you and dragging me here." He let out a long sigh as if to say ' _that_ _felt_ _good_ '.

Her though, she'd latched onto one specific word. "Malfoy..." Hermione said in a slow teasing voice. "Did you just call me _Hermione_?"

"No." He snapped and marched out of the room.

"Out with the rest of you too," ordered Madam Pomfrey. "The patients need some rest."

* * *

When her friends had left, Dumbledore entered the room, to Madam Pomfrey's chagrin. Potter, who was apparently now awake, leapt out of his bed and rushed to the headmaster. "Where is he Sir? Where's Sirius?"

Looking down, Dumbledore spoke with an air of sadness. "In the West Tower, about to receive the Dementor's Kiss."

"But Sir!" Potter protested hysterically. "He's innocent."

"It was Scabbers!" Weasley explained from his bed, his leg elevated and wrapped in bandages or else he too would have surely been yanking on the headmaster's arm. "My rat- but he's not a rat- I mean he was my brother's rat- but really he was a wiz-"

"I'm sorry boys, but the decision has been made. I merely came to check on you." With those words he left, she supposed he couldn't stand to look at his favourites, knowing he'd let them down.

Potter turned on Hermione. "Why didn't you help us? You were there! You know Sirius was innocent."

She sighed. "I'm sorry Potter, honestly, but it wouldn't have made any difference."

"Of course it would!" He declared blindly. "I don't know what else I expected though, from a friend of Death Eater kids like _Malfoy_."

"Malfoy and I aren't friends," she clarified. "More like mutually tolerant acquaintances... sometimes. But to return to my original point, I hate to ruin your superhero image of Dumbledore, but he isn't all powerful and in this he has none at all. It's the minister for magic that makes these choices and he won't be swayed by three teenagers."

"You never know until you try!"

"Sometimes you do."

The two of them sat on their respective beds in silence for a while, the only sound being Weasley's snores. Out of the blue, Potter suddenly told her, "yesterday, Professor Trelawney predicted that Voldemort's true servant would return to him that night, and he would rise to even greater power than before... I can't help but think she was referring to..."

"Pettigrew," she finished for him.

"He got away in the chaos last night, and Sirius said he was a spy for Voldemort-"

"I wouldn't lose sleep over it Potter," she yawned, leaning back to get some more sleep herself, one eye open as she added "Divination isn't exactly what I would call a science. And we have no reason to believe He's back."

She was ready to shut her eyes again when he bit his lip, and she furrowed her brow. What was he not saying? After great contemplation, Potter whispered, "can you keep a secret?"

* * *

 _ **Next chapter the gang will have all grown up a little, so next year will have a little more swearing, a little more making out, and a little more Voldemort.**_

 _ **Review!**_


	5. Fourth Year

**_Fourth Year:_**

The three Slytherins made sure to bow deeply before the Dark Lord. He nodded approvingly to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. "the next generation look impressive from what I have seen of them so far."

"Ready to serve you, my lord." Draco promised.

He shifted in his thronelike chair. "You shall be given the chance soon... Narcissa tells me there is a Mudblood in your year." The boys all tried to hide their outward signs of worry. "The first in over a century..." Voldemort spoke slowly, leisurely. "How intriguing."

"Would you like her eliminated my Lord?" Lucius asked eagerly. Draco felt his heart unexpectedly race as he waited for his master's response.

"No need to be hasty," Said Voldemort. "I'm quite curious about her... we'll have to work out what to do with her after we've gained some more power. In the meantime, you young men make sure she stays on the right side."

"You don't have to worry my lord," said Blaise, speaking for the first time. "She's loyal to Slytherin, clever, ambitious-"

"Very well Zabini," Voldemort chuckled. "I see someone has a crush." The Italian boy's blush would surely have been visible had he lighter skin.

"Is that the mission you spoke of?" Asked Theo.

"No," the Dark Lord said. "I believe you have tickets to the Quidditch World Cup, Lucius." Draco's father nodded. "Go, take the boys, have fun, and then after the match don your masks from the old days, others of my followers will join you. I have a volunteer who will fire my mark into the sky to show everyone that the crimes you committed were in my name."

"There will be worldwide panic," Lucius said quietly and the Dark Lord rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Lucius. _That's the idea_."

* * *

From her seat up in the top box with the minister for magic, her mother, the Malfoys, Blaise and Theo, Daphne watched entranced as the mascots of the two teams paraded into the stadium. Her sister wasn't here, as Astoria had sworn a plague on her mother's house if she'd been dragged along. She'd been reading too many period dramas. "You do realise your mother's house is your own, right?" Daphne had pointed out. Primly, Astoria had told her it was worth the risk. Her mother had offered Hermione a seat as well but the other girl had politely declined, telling Daphne later that the Quidditch World Cup sounded like her literal hell- Quidditch and Pure-blood families that hated her. The boys had been oddly glad Hermione wasn't coming, not just Draco but all of them. When she asked why Draco just said they didn't want her whining and ruining the experience.

"Sorry, sorry," apologised a tall ginger man as he entered the top box late with his ginger brood, plus Harry Potter, of course. She could see Draco biting back a retort about how they had afforded these seats, something she genuinely wondered about too, but Fudge was seated only a few feet away.

This was going to be a long match.

* * *

When Hermione woke up after a long peaceful sleep she immediately noticed the red in the sky. Next, she saw the two owls perched at her window. One, a common barn owl, carried her copy of the Daily Prophet. She glanced at the front page headline and then rubbed her eyes harder: **Terror at the Quidditch World Cup, Dark Mark Ignites Unprecedented Wizard Panic.** The Dark Mark was the symbol of Voldemort, released into the sky by his supporters after they had murdered someone. A group of her friends had been there. She looked at the other owl and inhaled sharply. It was the Greenglass family owl. Could it be Astoria, telling her Daphne and the others were dead? The Daily Prophet had said that the cloaked figures had fled after the mark had been cast, likely because they had failed to stay loyal to him after his downfall. What if he had killed her friends and their families for that very reason?

With trembling hands, she opened the letter.

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _I don't know if you'll have heard of the events of last night yet, but I'm fine. We all are._

 _When the match ended, the boys and Mr Malfoy urged my mother and I to leave quickly, which we certainly found odd as we'd expected to go to the celebrations, but Draco's father had a quick whispered conversation with my mother and she took me home. I tried to ask her what was going on, but she wouldn't give anything up. When I heard what happened after I left I immediately Floo'd to Malfoy Manor to check on the boys. Narcissa told me they'd arrived back a couple of hours ago and gone straight to bed._

 _Their behaviour was strange all day though, they seemed glad you weren't there. I-_

 _I'm sure it was just the work of fanatics and nothing to worry about. I'll see you soon._

 _Your friend, Daphne._

Hermione's emotions had ricocheted all over the place as she'd read the familiar cursive; relief, confusion, suspicion... confusion. Though the sun was still rising, she penned a response.

 _Dear Daphne,_

 _I'm glad you're okay, but were you going to say you think the boys were involved?_

 _As scary as it is to think, I don't believe it was fanatics. At the end of last year Potter told me that for his first two years of school he met some incarnation of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He also said he'd been told a prophecy that You-Know-Who's most loyal servant would return to him that night Black was killed, and he would become stronger than ever. At the time I laughed it off and honestly haven't thought much of it since, but now it seems to make sense._

 _If the boys are following in their fathers' footsteps we can only hope they know who, and what, they're fighting for._

 _Hermione._

* * *

Something seemed oddly comforting about sitting in the familiar compartment with her friends after all of the upheaval the wizarding world had experienced several weeks ago. Neither Hermione nor Daphne had mentioned their suspicions to the boys, or anyone else, and the boys hadn't revealed anything unusual.

The ride to Hogwarts consisted of the usual chat about summer fun, and questioning the supply list. This year they had to have dress robes, which Daphne said were worn to balls, weddings and the like. They were all curious as to what occasion at Hogwarts could require such attire, especially since discussion with the older years had revealed that they had to bring it too, but had never had to before.

* * *

After the sorting and start of term feast Dumbledore made the announcement that there would be no Quidditch this year. This was met with absolute mayhem and disgust, save Hermione, who, perhaps a little too loudly, shouted "YES!" "Do you think it's because of the World Cup?" Asked Pansy.

"I don't see why it should be," Hermione shrugged. "It's not like they're going to just hunt out Quidditch matches to commit mass murder at." The boys all stayed quiet. Just as Dumbledore was about to announce the event that would be replacing Quidditch, the doors of the Great Hall swung open and a short man with a limp hobbled in. Despite the appearance of a cripple, he seemed strong and menacing somehow; whether it was the scarred face, the clawed end of his wooden leg, or the swirling, magical, electric blue eye. He took the seat beside Snape as Dumbledore announced him their new DADA professor and offered him a drink, but he refused, taking a swig from his own flask instead.

"That's Mad-Eye Moody," said Greg sombrely. "He's an Auror. Crazy fellow, super paranoid, but half of the cells in Azkaban are full because of him."

"Including my father," said Theo bitterly. Daphne clasped his hand.

"And my aunt," Malfoy clinked his glass with Theo's and took a swig of his pumpkin juice. Malfoy... Who was he? He'd been a prat, he'd been a monster; these days though he was more of an enigma. Generally, he was still awful, but he had his moments, and every new thing she learned about him made him more frustratingly three dimensional. She pondered the Death Eater question, could he be one? She didn't want to believe it, but everything she knew about Malfoy, the good and the bad, seemed to lead back to that conclusion.

At last, Dumbledore announced that the event replacing Quidditch this year would be the Triwizard Tournament. It involved the three largest wizarding schools in Europe and each school would have one champion who would compete in challenges to represent their school and win the cup, as well as fame. It hadn't been held for nearly a hundred years due to the vast death rate but-

"Did he just say death rate?" Hermione hissed at no-one in particular.

"Uh..." said Greg, who hadn't been listening.

"I think so," said Vince, who's attention span was about the same as his friend's.

"Yes, yes he did." Pansy confirmed. Hermione glared up at Dumbledore. How had this school not been shut down yet?

Apparently the reason the ministry had seen fit to reinstate the competition was because of the new rule that only competitors aged seventeen and over could compete. This was met with groans from all around, almost as much outrage as when the announcement of no Quidditch had been made. Again, Hermione felt like the only one who was glad. "Do you guys seriously want to take part in a Hunger Games of sorts?"

"A _what_ games?"

"Never mind."

* * *

As Hermione, Daphne and Pansy lay on their stomachs under the shade of an oak tree, laughing over an article in the Daily Prophet, the boys approached.

"What's so funny?" Asked Vince as he plopped down beside them.

"The Daddy Weasel's failure," Pansy answered. Malfoy reached down and plucked the newspaper from them.

"Hey!" Hermione exclaimed as Pansy let out a long whiney " _Drakieee_!" but Daphne pointed to the approaching tag team of Weasel and Potter.

"Look Weaselbee!" Malfoy cried, getting in their way and shoving the article in his face. "Your dad's famous! Probably for the only time in his life, after all, he didn't even know about the tournament." Hermione was pretty sure Malfoy hadn't known about the tournament either, no matter how he had taunted the boys before the train left King's Cross. His baiting quickly worked and soon the ginger was being restrained by his friend. Potter threw a rude comment about Malfoy's mother and tried to drag his friend away, but, outraged, Malfoy pointed his wand at Potter's back. Before he could utter a spell their new professor had turned their classmate into a white ferret. Apt as it may be, given her insults years ago, Hermione was horrified and let out a cry of _"Draco!"_ before she could stop herself. The others looked similarly panicked as Moody bounced their friend up and down like a tennis ball before finally slamming him to the ground. Chaos ensued as Pansy was trying to scoop up her boyfriend, but kept squeaking and backing away. Eventually Daphne did it for her. Hermione, meanwhile, was outraged. Producing her wand, she raced at their new professor, Blaise and Theo following after her to try to hold her back. When they saw the look on her face though, they backed away. Through his laughter, Potter called out "I thought you weren't friends Granger!" He would be next. She was seeing red, her wand pointed like a gun between Moody's eyes. She'd never used her wand as a weapon before, not in such an overt way, and it both terrified and exhilarated her.

 _"Miss Granger!"_ McGonaggal shrilly cried, the quick click of her heels approaching as she hurried over. "Put down your wand." After a moment Hermione stepped back, but didn't lower her wand. Seeing this as a win, the head of Gryffindor turned her gaze to Draco, cupped in Daphne's hands. _"Is that a student?"_ She shrieked.

"Technically it's a ferret," said Moody. The maggot. Suddenly deciding to join Hermione and seek revenge, Draco jumped out of Daphne's hands and sped towards Moody, who proceeded to bounce him again.

 _"Professor Moody!"_ An outraged McGonagall bellowed. When he didn't respond she produced her own wand and turned Draco back to a boy again. "We don't use transfiguration as a punishment against students!"

"Draco are you okay?" Hermione asked, dropping her stance to join the others. He brushed them all off, but her most especially, for his next words were directed at only her.

"Get your filthy hands off me." He turned to face Moody, his fists clenched and his veins visibly pulsing. "My father will hear about this." As he fled, the others fanning out around him, Moody yelled something indistinguishable, which McGonagall interrupted with her own angry rant.

* * *

Their first lesson with Moody started with him predictably favouring the Gryffindors, handing Lavender Brown ten points for telling him the Unforgivable Curses were "unforgivable". Hermione very nearly slumped onto the desk in despair. Moody then explained that, despite the Ministry's objections, he would be teaching these spells. Surely if they were _unforgivable_ he shouldn't be demonstrating them? Nor would they be on the curriculum? And what was the point of studying something that wouldn't be on the exam? "Give me a curse."

Despite her silent objections, Hermione had done her research. She raised a hand straight in the air. Moody gave her a clear once over, and ignored her. She bristled as he called on Malfoy, whose hand was not raised, clearly hoping to frustrate them both. What type of teacher _was_ this man? Malfoy looked up at him through his pale lashes and said slowly. "Imperious. The mind control curse."

"Oh yes," Moody snorted and hobbled forward until he was centimetres away from his student. "Your father would know all about that one." Several Slytherins became riled up at the insinuations against their parents, while the Gryffindors chuckled along with their new hero. With one last sneer, Moody moved back to the front of the classroom, Hermione's angry eyes on him the whole time. If looks could kill...

Moody opened a jar on his desk and a large spider crawled out. Like a showman, he made sure they all had a good view of it creeping along his hand before he pointed his wand at it and stage-whispered "imperio". He directed the spider to Vince's head, and then Malfoy's, for a second she thought it might go to Parvati Patil, but then Moody flung it back onto Theo. The Gryffindors, of course, let out raucous laughter as Moody had the audacity to tell them it was harmless. As the spider flew towards her, fire blazed in her heart and she thought: _Repello!_ The spider bounced back against the wall and the people who'd been looking showed various expressions. Moody appeared caught off guard, Pansy impressed, even Malfoy seemed briefly shocked before he returned to his bored expression. "Was that a non-verbal?" Whispered Sally-Anne Perks to Dean Thomas.

"Mr Longbottom," The boy quickly got to his feet at the intimidating shout, but then Moody's voice became slightly softer when he knew he'd won back their attention. "Another curse."

Longbottom looked as though he wanted to crawl under his desk and cry, but he stuttered "c-c-cruciatus. The pain inflicting spell."

"Indeed," Moody gave him a nod and Longbottom sat back down again. Hermione watched him, not the torture going on at the front of the room. Longbottom was visibly shaking and his hands were gripping the sides of his chair tight.

"His parents were tortured to insanity using the cruciatus curse," Daphne said sympathetically. "By Draco's aunt and uncle, his uncle's brother, and the Minister's son."

Hermione turned to face her. The Minister had a Death Eater son? "Crouch?"

" _Miss Granger_!" She looked up into the revolving magical eye of Alastor Moody. "The third-"

"Avada kedavra," she jutted her chin and met his eyes with a dark sparkle in her own. "The killing curse. Let the **_thing_** be destroyed."

* * *

"She said that?" Voldemort cackled in delight.

"Presumptuous little mudblood," the face of Alastor Moody, lightest of The Light, clawed back through the fire, but behind the mask he could see the altogether different insanity that was Barty Crouch Jr. Few knew of the trick he had pulled slipping another spy into Hogwarts, this one more loyal than Severus. The Malfoys did, and had come to him to complain of their son's treatment but he had waved them away, telling them it had to be realistic. "I can't wait for the day when we raze them all to the ground."

"Now, now Barty," the Dark Lord chastised. "Don't get ahead of yourself. I am quite excited to meet this one."

"My Lord," Barty practically gasped in horror. "You cannot be serious! Just today I practised their Imperious resistance," AKA he had a jolly old time causing the students agony, "and she threatened to report me for torture!"

"What is the Imperious curse if not a torture curse, Crouch." He said sardonically.

"When I cast it on her she could withstand it! I made her kneel like the filth she is and she bruised her knees forcing herself up and being harshly pushed back down. She is too powerful! She is a danger!"

"I don't like what you're implying," Voldemort spoke in a low, dangerous voice. "Tread carefully now. And Barty, contrary to your beliefs, power doesn't always have to be stomped out, sometimes it can be used to one's advantage." He cut off the communication, thinking about this _Hermione Granger._ The more he heard about her, the fonder he felt towards her.

* * *

On the evening of the 30th of October the Hogwarts students watched from afar as a gorgeous flying carriage descended from the sky, and a spectacular warship appeared from beneath the Black Lake. The teachers hurried them all into the Great Hall, Snape not being afraid to give a few of them a hard shove towards the dining area. "May I introduce to you the young ladies of Beauxbatons and their headmistress, the gorgeous Madame Maxime." The chic looking girls were captivating, Hermione thought she might have to pour some cold water over Blaise to get him to focus again, but Hermione's attention was drawn to the- surely half giant- headmistress. The woman was even taller than Hagrid, but somehow still effortlessly elegant. Dumbledore kissed her hand and she took the seat beside him whilst her girls dispersed amongst the Ravenclaws, causing Blaise to let out a soft groan. "And now we welcome the men of Durmstrang, and their Headmaster Karkaroff."

"My father wanted me to go to Durmstrang," Malfoy told them.

"Well aren't we all lucky your mother changed his mind," Pansy squeezed his arm and planted a kiss on his cheek. Exactly what Hermione was going to say, except with a little less physical affection and a little more sarcasm.

"Is that-?" Blaise looked almost as excited as he had when he saw the French girls.

"I think so." Theo looked about ready to faint as well.

Hermione peered around Theo, who shifted aside so she could see. "What? Who?"

" _Viktor Krum_ ," exhaled Daphne. Theo gave her a jealous look and she shrugged. "What? You have a crush on him too! Don't deny it!"

The object of apparently everyone's crushes took the space Theo had just created, directly opposite Hermione and gave what she would call a surly smile. "Hallo."

* * *

After the feast, the Goblet of Fire was producing. The Hogwarts students had been putting their names in for days, with several failed attempts resulting in hilarious, embarrassing effects, though of course none Slytherins. The other two schools had done it when they arrived. Now the cup spat out the names of the champions; Fleur Delacour, Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory. She knew very little about Diggory, only that he was the only captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, but honestly she was just glad she wouldn't have to be cheering on a Gryffindor. With the champions chosen and having their challenges explained next door, everyone else settled back into conversation, until the goblet spat out another name. Everyone stared at Dumbledore as he unraveled the piece of paper and Hermione crossed her fingers under the table. _Please no. Please no. Please no._

"Harry Potter."

Shit.

* * *

Draco had to admit, the badges the girls had made were pretty impressive. Pansy had done the designs and Granger worked out the charm; then they'd gotten the help of any Slytherin they could catch in the common room to mass produce them, and soon over half the school were donning them- Slytherins, of course, but also plenty of Hufflepuffs, who felt Potter was stealing their glory. He'd even thought Weasley, who was ignoring his best friend out of apparent petty jealousy, might join in on the action. Draco was thrilled with the enraged reaction from a majority of the school at the scandal of Potter, The Boy Who Got Everything Handed To Him, being entered in the tournament. He didn't know how it had happened; whether it had been cunning, which he doubted, or someone trying to get him killed, which seemed more likely, but Potter's popularity had finally sunk.

When Draco saw him in Potions he made sure to flash his 'Support Cedric Diggory- The Real Hogwarts Champion' form of the badge, before pressing it and holding his nose as it changed to read in glowing green 'Potter Stinks'. Apparently having taken on Weasley's anger management issues due to missing him so very badly, Potter drew his wand and fired 'Densaugeo' at the same time Draco shot 'Furnunculus'. The spells ricocheted and Draco's hit Lavender Brown, who was too busy fawning over Thomas to notice her front teeth had grown to resemble a squirrel's until he let out a scream of horror, whilst Potter's landed on Granger. Green boils blossomed on her face and she clutched at it in a panic.

"Miss Granger, go to the hospital wing. Miss Brown," Snape gave the gossip a once over. "I see no difference." Draco tried not to snort at that as the Gryffindor girl let out a distressed shriek. Instead he watched Granger hurry away in shame, an uncomfortable feeling pooling in his stomach. He felt _weird_ and he couldn't even enjoy it as Snape took points from Potter, or when he gave him a detention for talking back. When Potter's fanboy photographer came in to call him out of class, even Draco's "ready for your close up Potter?" was half-hearted.

"Slap me," he whispered to Theo.

"What why?" He needed a less rational friend.

"Slap me." He repeated to Crabbe, who did so immediately. That felt better.

* * *

The day of the first task found Hermione stood in the Quidditch stands, having awful flashbacks. She'd hoped she wouldn't have to come down here at all this year, but apparently that was an empty dream. At least this time there were dragons not boring Quaffles and Bludgies, or whatever. Just for once, she decided to forgo her usual inner rant about the dangerous way this school was run, and instead enjoy the fire-breathing dragons. After all, the minister was here, along with dragon trainers who would surely reign things in if they went too far. What could possibly go wrong?

As she watched each champion take their turn she wondered if they'd worked out the task beforehand. It certainly seemed like they'd all come prepared, particularly Potter, much as she hated to admit it. As the youngest, and not the smartest cookie in the jar, she'd suspected he'd struggle, but he played to his strengths and managed to use _'accio'_ , a charm they had not yet covered but which she had learnt over the summer, to summon his broomstick. In fact he achieved the quickest time, although he tied with Krum due to the Bavarian headmaster's biased scoring, which, if she was being honest, didn't totally outrage her.

* * *

At the end of their Transfiguration lesson McGonagall told her fourth year class that a Yule Ball would be held on the 25th of December for their year and up. Beside her, Michael Corner smiled what might have been an attempt at seduction but came off as more like constipation.

"You wouldn't mind if I-?" Asked Blaise.

She shook her head. They'd had a nice little run, but that was the best way to describe it- _nice_. She didn't really see him in the romantic sphere. "Go get yourself a French girl, Casanova."

* * *

Altogether, Hermione had fifty inches of essays and a translation to do, but no matter which she tried to start on she couldn't seem to get past the first sentence. She'd first noticed him in the library weeks ago, glancing at her and then quickly looking back down. At first she'd found it endearing but now it was getting in the way of her education. It was, after all, difficult to study when you were being stalked. It didn't help that said stalker was Viktor Krum, who had a fan club that ran behind him as he flexed his muscles and worked out, clapping and praising him. They followed him into the library sometimes too, though on this particular occasion he seemed to have escaped them. Shutting her copy of 'Advanced Arithmancy', Hermione marched over to where he hid behind a behind a bookcase, unsuccessfully- clearly he wasn't the equivalent of Slytherin back home. "Look, I know this library is a public space, but I find it difficult to concentrate when you're staring at me or I'm being distracted by your fans so I would appreciate it if, you know... you didn't."

His surly and moody expression became more apologetic. "I am sorry Hermy-own. I did not mean to distract you. I have been too nervus to approach you, but I vanted to ask... if you vould go to the Yule Ball viv me?"

A date with a famous Quidditch player, that should shut up Malfoy, at least for a little while. She nodded, and Krum's expression lifted for the first time since she'd known him, revealing a surprisingly pleasant smile.

* * *

Hermione had only said yes to Krum as a tactical move, but as they spent time together prior to the Yule Ball, she found that he was actually quite interesting. The stories he told her were so entrancing she sometimes found herself forgetting where she was as he explained in exquisite detail about his country, and all the places he'd been for Quidditch. She'd always wanted to travel, but had never left Britain. "I don't know if this is too for forvord, but vould you like to visit Bulgaria in the summer viv me?"

"I'll have to check my calendar," she teased.

Since they were spending so much time together she decided to try to teach him how to correctly say her name. "Her-my-oh-nee," she said, slowly and clearly.

"Herm-own-ninny?" Close enough.

* * *

"'Mione!" Hermione spun around when she heard Greg calling for her from across the courtyard. The others were with him, goading him on. "Uh, would-you-go-to-the-Yule-Ball-with-me?"

She touched his shoulder. "Oh, I'm sorry Greg I already have a date." Daphne was the only one she'd told, wanting to make her entrance grand, so the others looked shocked.

"What? Is it such a surprise someone would ask me out? You did it Blaise!"

"Yes." said Malfoy. "Who'd you get? Hagrid?"

"I think he's going with Maxime," Pansy chortled, making kissy noises.

"You're just going to have to wait and see," said Hermione primly, letting herself smirk only when she'd turned her back on him.

* * *

On Christmas Day the girls in her dorm insisted the spend almost their whole day preparing for the ball. Hermione found herself wishing she could be outside in the snow throwing a snowball at Malfoy's pompous head, but when she looked in the mirror at the finished project, she was amazed. Tracey had provided a boatload of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion to tame her wild mane and Daphne had styled it into a half up-half down style, with real flowers decorating it. Her silk dress robes were the most gorgeous (and expensive) thing she'd ever worn, and the simple makeup on her face wasn't caking it, just accentuating her best details and hiding her worst.

Viktor seemed to think so too. When he saw her descending the stairs to where the champions and their dates waited, his mouth dropped wide open. Potter, whose arm was tugged by one of the flabbergasted Patil twins, mirrored his look as well. She smiled the charming Pureblood smile Daphne had taught her as she enjoyed her Cinderella moment. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Viktor offered her a stuttered compliment, which she giggled prettily at, before tucking her hand into the crook of his arm and walking in procession with the others into the Great Hall. Her friends were near the front, Daphne giving her a thumbs up, Blaise glancing away from his one tenth Veela date to gasp along with Theo and Pansy, Vince and Greg wearing matching gapes as they stood arm in arm with Tracey and Millie. And Malfoy... his eyes seemed to widen in something oddly positive, then further in disbelief, then narrow coldly- all in mere seconds so that she wasn't sure if the expressions in between had been real or just her imagination. Once they had reached the dance floor area she turned to face Viktor. He took her waist, hesitantly, which she thought was sweet. Nodding discretely, they took their position and began to dance as the music swelled. She felt like she was walking on air as they swept along, Viktor lifting her into the air with the grace of a ballerina.

* * *

After several magical dances, Hermione found herself quite thirsty and settled down at a table to wait for Viktor to bring over some punch. In the meantime, she amused herself watching the Patil twins try to ask Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber to ask them to dance, without actually asking. At last the girls gave up and, snottily, took the arms of two Durmstrang boys who asked them to dance. Her friends also seemed to be having an extraordinarily merry Christmas- Theo and Daphne, as well as Blaise and his Beauxbatons date, had all mysteriously disappeared after an hour of dancing. Vince and Greg weren't quite so lucky in the romance department, but they'd been dancing and feasting to their heart's content as well. Pansy and Malfoy, on the other hand, were having a night more like the Golden Duo. Honestly, she wasn't quite sure what was going on, but Malfoy seemed highly distracted and Pansy highly frustrated. She kept hissing at him and eventually crashed down into the chair beside Hermione. Viktor had finally arrived with her punch but Malfoy grabbed it as her date extended it to her and downed it like it was a shot, slamming the glass down on the table. The Bulgarian Quidditch player stepped towards her housemate angrily but Hermione quickly stood up, putting a hand to his chest. "I should go speak with Malfoy. Could you dance with Pansy while I'm gone?" She fluttered her eyelashes for extra effect.

Viktor took the hand resting on his chest and pressed a gentle kiss to it. "If that is vot you vont, beautivul flowver."

As she dragged Malfoy out of the room Pansy shot her a grateful smile.

When they were outside the Great Hall Hermione turned on Malfoy, who looked as bored as ever. "What the hell is your problem? I mean, acting like a total prick and stealing my drink I guess I get... but the way you were treating Pansy-"

"You don't get to say shit about my relationship Granger." He spat. "Just because you're dressed up like a princess and your hair doesn't look as awful as usual, doesn't mean you get to play queen, or that anyone is fooled. We can all smell the pong of mud from miles away."

"Viktor doesn't seem to share your opinion-"

" _Viktor_?" He chuckled darkly. "You're on a first name basis now? Krum may be good at catching balls but I doubt he can even handle his own."

She narrowed her eyebrows. "I thought you were firmly on Team Krum? Unless... are you _jealous_?"

The word was barely out of her mouth before his silver eyes seemed to flash as black as the Dark Mark and he grabbed her wrists, pushing her back against the wall, his body a cage around hers. She let out a shriek, both from pain and surprise, but he just dug in deeper, leaning in so she felt his hot breath on her neck as he drew blood and whispered macabrely into her ear, "feel that, Mudblood? That's your blood pouring out of your veins. I can hurt you like that in seconds. Don't think I won't move my hands up higher..." She tried to shift away but then he let go and paced down the hall, leaving her to sink slowly down the wall into a vulnerable crouched position, staring blindly at the marks on her wrists.

* * *

Panting, he paced back and forth in the empty corridor, a hand on his sweaty forehead pushing his hair back. The hand was decorated with little splashes of red.

He found himself in the boys lavatory, shoving out a third year before leaning over the sink and looking up into the mirror. A little of the red had gotten into his hair and he stared at it before digging into his own palms. The blood that surfaced mingled with hers until he couldn't tell the difference.

* * *

Hermione used a charm to disguise the scars on her wrists, and did all she could to forget herself that they were there, but every time she saw him it was like a stabbing reminder, and she couldn't exactly avoid him, though they didn't talk.

* * *

At the end of February Dumbledore called her, Weasley, Cho and Fleur Delacour's sister to his office and told them that the second task would involve the champions having to swim into the Black Lake to retrieve the one they most feared to lose- them. After glancing around the room Hermione realised that meant she was here for Krum, which didn't seem very accurate, but she wasn't in the right mind to argue against Dumbledore's logic. When he asked if they all consented she nodded numbly.

* * *

"Have you seen Hermione?" Pansy asked the boys as she and Daphne entered the Great Hall. Draco's heart rate instantly picked up as he got a couple of uninvited flashbacks which had always ended with visits to the Hospital Wing. He didn't say anything, nor was he really listening. Their words sounded like nonsense as he stared blankly forward, his grip on his fork tight. For the past couple of months, or if he was being honest, years, he'd been unable to get her out of his head. He'd always thought it was because she was so damn annoying, only this year had he allowed himself to see the truth.

"Woah mate," Theo gingerly pried the fork from his grip. "Careful..."

* * *

Daphne went to Dumbledore, who apparently just said something cryptic about the next task and instructed them to go down to watch it. The old git. If he'd gotten her into danger Draco would happily string him up on his family's mantelpiece.

* * *

Yes, it turned out, he had gotten her into danger. Quite mortal danger at that. She was at the bottom of the Black Lake, which students were forbidden from swimming in, surrounded by whatever creatures were down there. He'd heard stories of vengeful mermaids and bloodthirsty Grindylows. Staring at the black surface of the lake, he waited for it to part and her to emerge but when it did it was Diggory. He felt desperate to see her, to apologise, as soon as possible, so he left his friends, ignoring their questions, and waited behind the stands.

* * *

Hermione felt the sleeping charm on her break as she broke the surface, a shark transfiguring back into Viktor the first sight she saw, followed by the cheers of hundreds of voices.

She let Viktor pull her back onto dry land where towels were draped around them both, then he pulled her aside, both his hands clutching hers as he declared passionately, "I know ve have not known each over very long, but I have never felt this vay about anyvone." He lent in and kissed her, and just like their dance, it was perfect. But it wasn't what she wanted if she was being honest. Viktor could tell she was holding something back. He pulled back and looked at her. "Vot is wrong?"

"I'm sorry," she clutched at his hands, trying not to cry. "This just- I don't feel the way you do. And I don't think I should come see you in the summer."

His face fell. "That pains me... but I understand. Friends?" She gave him a sad smile.

"I'd like that." He gripped her hand one more time as if in farewell, then he disappeared to talk to his friends. Hermione, she was rather looking forward to a nice warm bath. With a quick nod to her friends that, yes, she was alive and fine, she started to trek back up to the castle. She didn't get very far.

From behind the temporarily erected stands, her ghost stepped out. She took an involuntary step back, and his face registered something like relief, why, she wasn't sure until he spoke. "You're alive..." it wasn't a question, rather an exhale, but she nodded anyway. He opened his mouth again and closed it, then he took a long stride forwards and pressed his lips against hers. For a moment, her eyes shut, she gave in, and then her eyes flew open and she slapped him across the face. " ** _Fuck off!_** " She cried out and raced back up to the castle. Only when she was in the Fourth Year Slytherin Girls' bathroom with the door locked did she lean back against it and shut her eyes, reliving the brief seconds of pleasure. Blaise had been friendly. Viktor had been a dream. Malfoy had been fire and pain and passion and everything she wanted and hated. Confident in the knowledge that she was alone, she let out a loud scream of frustration that resonated throughout the stone walls.

* * *

Daphne moaned as she wrapped a leg around Theo's waist and he hoisted her up, laying her down on Snape's desk. Perhaps not the safest place for their activities, but certainly the most thrilling. He ran a hand up her leg and then murmured sensually against her skin, "You're so beautiful." Her only response was to grab his face and pull him into a slobbery kiss- which was interrupted by voices down the hall. Immediately, they both sat up straight and, taking her hand, Theo dragged her into Snape's storeroom.

"...don't you feel it too?" An accented voice asked. Karkaroff.

"Put it away!" Hissed Snape. "And get out! You're delusional." One set of footsteps stomped away, while the other moved a little closer. Daphne held her breath, but after a few tense moments her head of house headed to dinner.

"What was that about?" She whispered to Theo as she straightened her skirt and pushed her messy hair up into a neat-ish ponytail.

He tucked in his shirt and retied the tie she'd removed. "No idea."

* * *

An open book in one hand and a pencil stashed in her hair as she wandered down the hallway on the way back down to the dungeons before curfew, Hermione was in full study mode. She was so distracted that she didn't notice the hand dart out from an empty classroom, cover her mouth and pull her inside. Drawing her wand on her assailant, her blond silver eyed assailant, he dropped the hand at her mouth and held his hands up in surrender. "Please just hear me out. I promise I won't kiss you this time." 'Promise' and 'please' were too words she'd never heard Malfoy use before, but looking at the pallid face before her she realised that maybe this wasn't Malfoy. He looked a lot more like Draco- a boy she'd only met once or twice. She lowered her wand, though she still held it at her side. "I've been a dick-"

"We're in agreement there."

He gave her a somewhat sardonic, slightly more Malfoy smile, but nowhere near the usual sneer her presence evoked in him. "I've been a dick for several reasons. At first, truly it was because you were everything I was brought up to despise, at least I think so. When I no longer had that to hide behind, the truth started to slither into my brain... or my heart... or something. What I'm trying to say is that I got scared when I didn't have a reason to hate you. I **_was_** jealous at the Yule Ball, and not just a little, but insanely, terrifyingly jealous. When you said that, I don't know, it all really clicked together like pieces of a puzzle and it freaked me out. I snapped and I hurt you, and then straight afterwards I hurt myself to punish myself for causing you pain." He pulled up his sleeves and thrust them out to her.

Studying them, she sighed. She'd wanted to believe him but... "these would have healed." She should know. Hers had.

He shook his head. "I did it again. And again. Every time I saw you look upset or thought about how I'd hurt you."

"Draco..." she touched his face and he looked up startled like a wounded animal. "Don't do that again. I forgive you." He gaped, as if he hadn't expected her to. "Just... promise you'll tell me stuff from now on." He looked up bashfully and she narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"You may want to sit down. We could be here a while."

* * *

"So just to make sure I have everything; Voldemort's back, he's living at your house, you, Blaise and Theo are all... _junior death eaters_ , and our Gryffindor-loving professor is actually a Death Eater in disguise?"

"I just found out about that last one," Draco said. "After about my hundredth letter petitioning my father to get the loon fired he finally admitted the truth to me, and swore me to secrecy. You're the only one I've told."

Hermione smiled a devilish, pleased smile and he grinned back. He'd been fearful telling her so soon after she'd agreed to give him a chance would scare her away, but she was handling his darkest secrets remarkably well. "Oh, and let's not forget, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the most famous dark wizard in history, hater of muggleborns wants to meet _me_." She kicked her leg over the other where she perched on a desk opposite him. "Are you sure this meeting isn't going to just be one crude word. Crucio? Or perhaps Avada?"

"One can never be too sure with the Dark Lord," Draco sighed as if thinking it over. "But he's intrigued by you. Don't worry," he swore sincerely. "If he tries to touch you I'll kill him myself."

Hermione got off the desk and walked towards him, stopping just in front of him. "You mean that, don't you?"

"Does that scare you?"

"No." She began to lean forwards and he felt his heart hammering, but then they heard voices coming towards them.

"...Mr Crouch is here- he's down in the forest- he wants to speak to you!" Potter's laboured exclamations caused them both to look at each other.

"You don't-"

"No," Draco said honestly. "I've told you everything I know."

* * *

"Am I missing something?" Vince asked, without a trace of sarcasm. "We're just staring at a hedge." Indeed. The grand final task that would decide the winner of the Triwizard Tournament was a maze. Whilst Hermione didn't doubt that it was exhilarating for the champions it wasn't much of a spectator sport. The terrbily one-sided commentary provided by the Creevey brothers wasn't particularly inspiring either, not that she minded too much. She was in the blissful light of a new relationship, and happy to snuggle into Draco's arm and gaze at the green hedge as the sun beat down upon them. It was a gorgeous day.

Pansy had taken their new relationship well, telling Hermione that she'd only dated Draco because of his blood status and she'd been fed up of his pining anyway. Later, when they told the others all together, they'd all handed a wad of cash to a beaming Greg. "You placed bets on if we'd end up together?" Draco had asked.

"When." Daphne had corrected. "And you couldn't have gotten together a few months ago at the Yule Ball, now could you?" She'd sighed and they'd all laughed.

Hermione's pleasant reminiscing came to an abrupt end when Potter apparated from thin air, bearing the Cup and Diggory's body. Around her screams shook the earth but she and her friends all remained silent, staring at what she realised now was a corpse. By now they'd all been caught up, and sworn to secrecy, on the return of Lord Voldemort. This had to be his doing. When 'Moody' ushered Potter away, their suspicions were all but confirmed.

* * *

That actually happened, though, at the End of Term feast a few days later, where black banners of mourning instead of one house's colours decorated the hall. "Potter's still alive," Whispered Greg. They all glanced over and saw the boy in question eating sombrely with the Weasleys.

"Probably for the best," Theo stated blankly. "You-Know-Who will want to do the deed himself."

"Look who's still **_not_** here," Hermione nodded towards where the teachers sat in silence. 'Moody' hadn't been at their table since the Third Task.

"I suppose he failed then," Draco smirked. "Can't say I'm too remorseful for his loss."

"Don't suppose you would be, _ferret-boy_ ," Pansy said under her breath, eliciting reserved laughter from everyone except the victim himself.

"He got what he deserved," Hermione told her boyfriend darkly.

Blaise did a double take. "Blimey. She's terrifying. Did you do it Granger?"

"Unfortunately not," Hermione sighed. "But if he ever gets out of Azkaban he's in for one hell of a murder."

"I'm afraid you might not get the chance love," Draco drawled. "I heard the Dementors got to him."

"Bugger," Hermione swore. As she did Dumbledore got to his feet and the few scattered conversations fell silent.

"Today we mourn the loss of Cedric Diggory," the headmaster said. "A wonderful young man, and a kind friend." At the Ravenclaw table Cho Chang sobbed into her friend's shoulder. "But in these dark times it is also important to shine light on the truth." The group looked between each other. "The Ministry, and many of your parents, do not want me to tell you this, but I think it is your right to know what you are up against."

"Bull," muttered Daphne, who was surprisingly riled up about the topic. "He just wants to build an army. Maybe the older years should know, but terrifying unknowledgeable preteens into fighting for you isn't exactly a hero's move."

"Lord Voldemort has returned." The response was eerily similar to when they'd all seen the body. And yet again, Hermione and her friends remained silent. They'd chosen their side. And it wasn't Dumbledore's.

* * *

As they waited at the Hogsmede train station platform, Draco's arm around her waist in a way that made her tingle, he leaned in and whispered, "since you're not going to be spending a romantic summer in Bulgaria anymore, how about you come meet my parents?"

"My, don't you move fast Mr Malfoy!" Hermione said teasingly to disguise the fear she felt. She'd never met Draco's mother, but his father had made his feelings towards her pretty clear the one time they'd come into contact with each other. "Hold on! How did you know Viktor asked me that?"

Draco pointed to himself. " _Slytherin."_

She gave him a suspicious once over. "You were the one slipping Rita Skeeter information about Potter this year, weren't you!"

"Guilty," he admitted. "Now stop deflecting, _woman_ and answer the question!"

She bit her lip. "Will..." this platform was packed with members of The Light. "You-Know-Who" she whispered. "Be there?"

"I suspect so," as the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station he let go of her waist to chivalrously take her trunk. "My vow still stands. If any of them hurt you I'll kill them."

And she knew he was telling the truth.

* * *

 _ **Finally!**_

 _ **Review!**_


	6. Fifth Year

**_Fifth Year:_**

Trying not to fidget uncomfortably with the hem of the lace silver dress she and Daphne had spent hours picking out for this very occasion, Hermione tried to remember what her friends had taught her. Stand up straight, smile prettily, compliment Mrs Malfoy's home, giggle in a feminine way when Mr Malfoy attempted a joke. Tick, tick, tick. Still, the atmosphere was thick as caramel, and unfortunately didn't leave such a pleasant aftertaste. When Mrs Malfoy suggested they go take dinner she readily agreed, glad for a new topic of conversation. She'd almost forgotten the family's guest, but when she saw him at the head of the table she dipped into a quick curtsy, the way Pansy had painstakingly shown her. The other purpose of that was to briefly hide her shocked face from him- for how could one help but being surprised when faced with the noseless skeletal face of the most infamous wizard known. It was one thing to hear about it from others but to actually see him in the flesh- of whatever he wore over his bones- was something entirely different. Her boyfriend gave her hand a brief squeeze as Voldemort chuckled and invited her to sit at the chair beside him. Draco took the seat on her other side, and so she was forced to look towards the man who'd once practically shunned Louisa Greenglass for associating with filth like herself. "I have heard much about you Miss Granger," The Dark Lord said in that dangerous gravelly voice of his as the house elves deposited far too many dishes for the five of them onto the table. "Top of your class, ambitious, resourceful-"

"I _am_ a Slytherin," she said and then cast her eyes towards him, a little nervous she'd overstepped by calling him out on his naming of their house's traits, but instead he looked delighted.

"Indeed you are! I was particularly impressed when Barty- though you might know him as Moody- told me of how you threatened him in total seriousness on more than one occasion."

"He hurt Draco." She defended herself, her eyes stormy, but Voldemort held up his hands in mock defeat.

"As I said, I was impressed, not angered. And then again, when I heard how you withstood the Imperious. Tell me Miss Granger, how much do you know of dark spells?"

"I have done some research into-"

"But not of specific spells I suppose?" She shook her head and he grinned, something sinister lurking beneath it though. "I will have Severus authorise some books from the Restricted Section for you. It seems such a shame to waste your clear talent." She smiled coyly at him and the Malfoys before taking a bite of some delicious pie. She couldn't help but feel a little smug at that comment. The rest of the dinner they made small talk and then once they'd finished Voldemort dismissed her and Draco. Her boyfriend courteously pulled out her chair and offered her his arm.

As they strolled outside in the gardens she leaned up to him- he'd shot up yet again in the few weeks since she'd seen him. "Well that went... as well could be expected."

"What are you talking about?" He looked down at her with a bemused expression. "The Dark Lord was besotted with you, practically salivating-"

"Ew!" She dropped his arm to slap it. "You're disgusting!"

"Apparently he was a heartthrob back in the day."

"Well I prefer," she gestured him for him to lean down and then bopped him on the nose and whispered, "Boys with noses." Draco reached out and she let out a shriek, running away as fast as she could in the sensible heels the girls had forced her to wear. He was laughing as well, throwing all his inhibitions to the wind as they chased each other through the maze of perfectly trimmed hedges. He caught her of course, and wrapped his arms around her from behind, nuzzling against her neck as she squirmed away, squeaking and laughing so hard her cheeks hurt.

"DRACO!" They both immediately stopped laughing and turned their heads to where Narcissa Malfoy stood aloof. "The Dark Lord wishes to speak with you." Draco nodded, gave her an apologetic look and headed inside. Hermione meanwhile, straightened her dress, nervously avoiding eye contact as Draco's mother glided over with the elegance of a swan, not one feather out of place. Was she horrified by their childlike playing? Was she going to threaten Hermione to not taint her family tree? "I haven't seen Draco so vibrant and carefree for many years." The blonde touched Hermione's hand in way of thanks, even giving her a small smile. "My family holds an annual Yule Ball for the wizarding elite. This year with the official return of the Dark Lord it shall be even grander an affair than ever before. I'm sure Draco would be honoured if you attended as his date."

It took her a moment to translate that, but when Hermione realised she was inviting her to a Pure-blood party she replied, "I'd love too Mrs Malfoy."

The older woman smiled gratefully. "Please, call me Narcissa. I was wondering- since I suspect you have nothing appropriate- would you like to go shopping for dress robes with me?" Since it was clear that the other woman meant no offence and as it was quite true- she'd discarded last year's dress robes, what with the horrible connotations they carried- Hermione agreed and they scheduled a date near the end of summer.

* * *

Hermione had assumed her fitting with Mrs- Narcissa- would be a quick trip to Diagon Alley, so she was shocked when a confident looking Narcissa had arrived and apparated them to one of the fashion capitals of the world, Milan. Hermione's first time apparating was rather uncomfortable and felt like she was falling through a tight drainpipe, but her first time visiting a foreign country was fantastic. Afterwards, Draco would tell her that his mother had always wanted to have a daughter after him to take shopping and brush her hair, but she had never managed to successfully conceive again.

Narcissa was certainly enthusiastic about having a girl to pamper. They went to the dress robes shop first of course and after a good couple of hours of looking through fabrics and oohing and aahing, Hermione ended up with a festive Slytherin green tulle ballgown, which the assistant promised she looked ravishing in. Then they ate some true, delicious Italian before, surprisingly, Narcissa took her on a little cultural tour of the city- showing her around fascinating and glorious ancient and gothic churches and palaces. They ended the day in a spa, with Hermione finally convinced that yes, Narcissa did like her.

Now she just had to win over her husband.

* * *

As she heard Draco's approach Hermione quickly tried to hide her copy of the Daily Prophet but it was futile. He'd already heard about the news and started complaining to Greg and Vince, who trailed behind him as the three boys entered the compartment; "...in front of muggles and isn't found guilty expelled! It's an outrage I tell you!" Draco dropped a kiss onto Hermione's forehead before continuing his rant. After having read several articles on it, looking at this from a totally non-biased standpoint, Hermione had to admit that it sounded like Potter had been justified to cast a Patronus to protect himself and the muggle cousin with him. That didn't mean he shouldn't have been expelled for other transgressions such as say, flying a car low across Muggle London for all to see or inflating his aunt to the size of a beach ball, but in this case she understood the verdict.

"We'd better head to the prefects' carriage," Theo, Draco's saviour, declared, just as she was about to whack her boyfriend about the head.

"Don't go..." said boyfriend whined.

"Needy," she teased, but kissed him anyway before following Theo out of the compartment.

* * *

When they arrived Hermione was sincerely shocked to see Weasley sitting with Sally-Anne Perks. "What, did everyone else refuse the job?" She queried the easily incited rhinoceros in front of her. Sure enough he immediately rose to his feet, only to be pushed back down by his housemate. "No seriously Weasley, I'm confused."

"Me too," Theo said. "I can understand why Golden Boy might be rejected what with all of his recent controversies but surely Finnegan or Thomas or even Longbottom would be the next choice." He shook his head. "I take that back. Not Longbottom." The plain looking brunette beside Weasley was now physically restraining him as the two Slytherins exchanged a glance and sat down opposite them.

* * *

Pointing to where the cluster of tiny first years were being herded by their substitute Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Blaise hissed, "oi! Your father did it then?" Draco had been relentlessly probing his father to have Hagrid removed ever since he'd become their unqualified and dangerous professor.

"I suppose so," he said, leering at the thought of the half-giant sobbing with all his wild beasts around him. It was odd that his father hadn't told him though.

As the group climbed into one of the carriages that would take them up to Hogwarts he saw Potter just ahead, staring in stunned amazement at thin air. The crazy Ravenclaw girl beside him was stroking the air too. "Feeding the invisible ponies, Potter?" He called out before stepping into the carriage, refreshed and content in the knowledge that he'd already got an insult in.

* * *

"Who's that?" Greg whispered. They all looked up to where a toad like woman with a flabby face and a horrifying perm- a crime against nature, Daphne always said- dressed in all pink sipped leisurely at a cup of tea.

Vince did a once over of the staff and suggested, "our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor?"

"Obviously," Pansy rolled her eyes. "I think he meant _**who**_ is our new professor?"

"That woman," Vince pointed and Pansy mocked slamming her head onto the table.

"I guess we're about to find out," Daphne said as the woman interrupted Dumbledore's speech with a purposeful cough. The headmaster introduced her, but apparently that wasn't enough, for now she began to make her own speech, much to the chagrin of students and professors alike, about how she hoped they would all be "good friends" and proceeded to blather on for what felt like hours. Hearing the snores from her right, Hermione nudged Vince and Greg awake as Umbridge finally finished her speech with a mischievous giggle. "That woman has the face of an old toad and the voice and fashion sense of seven year old," Pansy said through gritted teeth as she politely clapped her hands whilst people around them both figuratively and literally woke up to clap as well.

* * *

"Wands away, books out." Trilled Umbridge in that already grating voice of hers in their first DADA lesson. The Slytherins looked between each other. "Your previous instruction in this subject has been, disturbingly uneven. But you will be pleased to know, from now on, you will be following a carefully structured, theory-centric, Ministry approved course of defensive magic."

"But Professor!" An outraged Potter glared at Umbridge. "How are we supposed to learn how to defend ourselves?"

"Just as importantly," Hermione added. "How are we supposed to pass the practical section of our exams?" Potter looked at her surprised for coming to his aid, but for once the Gryffindors and Slytherins were united.

"My dears," Umbridge stepped forwards, her sickly sweet voice like a rotten apple. She conveniently ignored Hermione's question. "There is nothing _lurking_ outside Hogwarts waiting to attack you." Well, that wasn't quite true and Potter's martyr complex felt the immediate need to point the fact out. Lord Voldemort _was_ back. " _ **Lies**_!" For a second Umbridge's soft voice had been harsh and shocking, but when she spoke again it was back to normal. "You children have been lied to. You have been told a certain dark wizard is back and at large. This is. Simply. Not. True." Said the woman who hadn't sat by his side at dinner a month ago.

"So, what, according to you Cedric Diggory just dropped dead?" Potter's problem was that he didn't know when to stop, and he had just crossed that line. Umbridge sent him out of the classroom, docked points, gave him a week of detention, _and_ called him a foolish liar. After he'd left she turned to the rest of the class. "Now, where were we?"

* * *

"That monster is a terror," said Blaise and they all readily sounded their agreement. The other teachers might be loading them up with homework, but Umbridge was going to sweeten them to death.

"Fudge sent her as a spy, clearly," Daphne said. When four out of five of the boys looked at her confused, she gave them a look. "I was listening to that speech for the first two minutes before I started blanking her out."

"The nerve of her in class today," Hermione raged and then spoke in a high pitched voice, "Ordinary. Wizarding. Level. Examinations. O.W.L's. Study hard and you will be rewarded," back in her normal voice she commented "not if we're not allowed to practise the practical stuff. _Bitch._ " The others looked at her shocked, but Hermione just scowled at where their teacher was stood conversing with an even more bored than usual looking Snape.

* * *

Snape, apparently frustrated after his long conversation with Umbridge, was feeling spiteful and paired them up. Hermione was with Potter, which would result in less of Snape's supplies being ruined, she supposed was the only reason he hadn't paired the Golden Boy with Draco. " **Grind** , not _**crush**_ , Potter." She let out an exasperated groan as he ignored her, and snatched the pestle to demonstrate herself, but in doing so his robe rode up, giving her eyes access to the dried blood there. He moved his arm quickly, pulling down his sleeve, but she'd seen it. Remembering Draco's self-harm last year, she spoke in a softer tone. "What was that on your arm?"

"Nothing." Potter continued to incorrectly smash the ingredients. With no other choice, she leaned over, gently but quickly pulled up his shirt sleeve and grabbed his hand.

"Miss Granger stop molesting Mr Potter," droned Snape without looking up, causing a lot of laughter and one very jealous look from Draco. Hermione ignored it and looked at Potter's hand. _'I must not tell lies'_ was carved there from what must have been repeated instances.

"Why would you do that?" She asked but he just hissed back that he didn't. She raised a disbelieving eyebrow and pointed to the parchment next to him. "It's your handwriting!" Potter was adamant that he hadn't done it.

Finally he turned on her. "It was Umbridge. She has this... blood quill. She makes me write lines with it and they appear on my hand."

"That vile woman must be breaking at least a dozen student abuse laws," Hermione was seething. If she was doing this to Potter, surely she was doing it to others. Even he didn't deserve this, and certainly not innocent younger years. "Why are you still doing it?"

He made a noise. "Like I have anyone to file a complaint with. Not everyone's dating the murderous head of the school board's son."

She didn't appreciate that comment, but she still prepared him a solution made of Murtlap Essence and threw a batch into his lap at dinner, a little more violently than necessary. They had a larger enemy to face for the moment.

* * *

When Hermione told her friends about Umbridge's blood quill Draco became instantly protective, grabbing her hand and searching for any sign of it. "She didn't use it on me," Hermione said, running a hand through his hair. "As if I'd let her." Unfortunately Potter had been right, there was little they could do, at least right now, except to look out for anyone with a scar and offer them some of her solution. Maybe when Voldemort was in charge though, he could punish Umbridge, yes, that would be something she'd pay to see.

Unfortunately it might be a while until Umbridge was taught her lesson. She certainly seemed to be gaining power, rather than losing it, with her new role as High Inquisitor. Draco's father had sent him a letter telling him and the others to support Umbridge as per You-Know-Who's orders, which aligned with his comment in the Daily Prophet that he was glad there was finally someone to oversee Dumbledore's decisions. Had it been anyone else but Umbridge, Hermione would have sincerely agreed with his fake support. As High Inquisitor, Umbridge was also inspecting the teachers. Hermione hadn't had her in any of her other classes yet, but apparently she'd made Trelawney cry and continuously probed Grubbly-Plank about where Hagrid was and when he would be returning. "Of course," Draco said. " _We_ were only too willing to assist her, as my father requested, and tell her all sorts of stories about dear Professor Hagrid."

* * *

Hidden in a smoky corner at the Hog's Head to discover why Potter had rallied a group of at least twenty from every house except their own, Hermione and Draco listened as they announced the formation of a rogue organisation which would teach themselves Defence. Although she had to admit it wasn't a bad idea, in fact rather parallel to how she was teaching herself the Dark Arts, she knew telling Umbridge was what had to be done. It would help them to gain her trust, and it would please Voldemort to crush a group who were learning to fight against him. And so they told her, earning pats on the head, sweets and a promise to immediately re-instate their Quidditch team after she disbanded all clubs and organisations- honestly, it was surprisingly she and Dumbledore weren't more chummy. They were eerily similar.

* * *

When Pansy found out Weasley had made the Gryffindor Quidditch team she'd insisted they make more badges, these ones saying _'Weasley is our King'_ , for the first match of the year. It was quite fun- maybe Hermione could have a side job doing this when she was Minister of Magic. Pansy had really gone all in, even composing a song. On the day of the Slytherin vs Gryffindor match she stood at the front to conduct them. Hermione found herself singing along, laughing into Blaise's shoulder. Unfortunately, Weasley somehow got _good_ and Gryffindor ended up winning. Hermione watched as Draco flew down to taunt Potter and the Weasley twins about something, causing them to attack him. Her eyes widened but Umbridge came waddling along at a slow run, confiscating their broomsticks and giving them a lifetime ban for Quidditch. She thought Potter might cry, but the twins seemed oddly nonchalant.

The next day Umbridge's pink office was covered in original magical pranks. The culprits were never discovered.

* * *

Despite the long, arduous Defence lessons, the Malfoy Yule Ball still seemed to roll around far faster than invited. It was being held on Christmas Eve, but the Malfoys invited her, Daphne, Theo and Blaise to stay from the end of school up until the night of the ball. It was certainly fun to roam the manor with her friends, but it was clear the request was Voldemort's doing when the boys kept having to disappear for meetings.

"He wants the three of us to take the Dark Mark at the end of the school year," Theo apologised to them both, before putting his lips on Daphne's neck by way of a second apology to hers. If the sighs of satisfaction she let out were any indication, she forgave him.

Averting her eyes, Hermione looked instead to the other two boys. "So what's going on?"

"He has a group of the Dementors on His side," Blaise explained. "At the start of the new year they're going to break out ten of His most evil followers who are trapped in Azkaban."

"Including my Aunt Bella," Draco warned her. "Who won't be swayed so easily as my parents in her prejudices."

"I can handle her," Hermione said confidently, wrapping her arms around the back of Draco's neck. "I've been learning some really _dark_ curses." He lent down and caught her mouth, slipping his tongue in and starting to make out.

Blaise looked between the two couples, "I really need a new girlfriend," and they both came apart laughing.

* * *

Dressed in her Christmassy green princess ballgown, Hermione stood at the top of the stairs descending into the Malfoy family ballroom, studying the chandelier that hung in the centre of it. When she heard a low gulp she turned around to see Draco gawping. "Finally!" She mock-chided him. "You took way longer than me!" He did look good though, really good.

"You look..."

"Ravishing," Hermione started to spin around at the low husky voice behind her, but the owner of said voice stopped her with a hand to her waist, coming around to her instead and bowing. She saw Draco's eyes widen behind her, and she too was shocked. The Dark Lord just bowed to _her,_ a Mudblood. Now he offered her his arm and walked slowly with her down the stairs, Draco trailing behind them meekly- not a very Draco look. "Tell me, how has your extra-curricular activity been going Miss Granger?" He asked. The ball was only just beginning, but mostly everyone was here and gazing in expressions ranging from distaste to jealousy or admiration at the famous muggleborn on the Dark Lord's arm.

"Very well m'lord," Hermione smized, a technique Daphne had taught her over the past few days while the boys were busy. "Although I'm afraid I haven't had many volunteers to try my new knowledge out on."

"Well that won't do," Voldemort tutted and called over a minor Death Eater. "Here you go, Miss Granger. Have at it." She glanced towards him, confused on if this was some sort of test, but he pointed back to her target.

"I-I left my wand upstairs," she explained. Then remembering Potter, "and won't I get in trouble with the Ministry?"

"Don't worry about the Ministry," The Dark Lord's lip quirked upwards. "And I heard that you used a non-verbal once before, against a spider Barty _Imperio_ 'd towards you." She hadn't known how she'd done that- it had just been a spur of the moment thing. "Try a bit of Cruciatus." Voldemort urged her on. The Death Eater opposite her didn't look too worried. He probably thought there was no way she would- or could- do it. Suddenly she felt an urge to prove him wrong. She fastened her gaze on him and whispered _"crucio"_. He flinched a little, but didn't look to be in any serious pain, and when it was over he had the nerve to laugh at her. "Try again," Voldemort whispered behind her, everyone was watching them now. The dancing had stopped. "Summon all of your hatred and anger. _**Feel**_ it."

She took a long exhale. " **Crucio**." The man before her bucked and let out an involuntary cry of pain as the torture wracked his entire body. With effort, Hermione shut her eyes and reigned herself back in as she heard Voldemort whisper " _incredible_ ". When she opened her eyes everyone was dancing again. The only sign of what had happened was the man stumbling up from the floor back towards his dance partner. "I'm sure the boys have told you they will be receiving the Dark Mark later this year," Voldemort put a hand on her shoulder. "How would you feel about getting it too?"

"It would be... an honour, my Lord."

"Excellent," and then he was gone, off to eat h'ordeuvres and converse with Narcissa. Hermione looked towards a shocked Draco. "Dance with me."

"What?" He said. "Don't you want to... lie down or something? That was intense!"

"I want you, to dance with me." She repeated and grabbed his hand, pulling him out onto the floor.

* * *

Voldemort's escape plan for the Death Eaters went off without a hitch, and he wasn't even suspected- possibly because the Ministry were still denying his existence. Umbridge re-assessed Hagrid and Trelawney, desperate to dismiss them, and she managed to do it, at least with Trelawney.

"Did you hear about what happened last night?" Pansy whispered conspiratorially.

"No but I'm guessing it's something big," Hermione nodded up to the subdued staff table, well, save Umbridge, who resided in the headmaster's chair with a victorious little smirk on her face. Apparently Potter had decided to reform his group and name it 'Dumbledore's Army' in an attempt to best piss off the Ministry. She suspected Voldemort wouldn't be pleased about his old rival having an army either, albeit an army of children. Dumbledore had admitted to forming the group. Aurors and the Minister had supposedly surrounded him and the old man had escaped in a spectacular fashion with his phoenix. Hermione snorted at this clearly entirely fictional resolution.

* * *

After the almost-as-dramatic-as-Dumbledore's exit of Fred and George Weasley a revolt broke out in the student population, which the staff passive-aggressively supported. At the end of Defence, Umbridge asked all her friends to stay behind so Hermione waited outside the door. When they emerged it was with shiny badges reading 'Inquisitorial Squad'.

"Okay, what just happened?" Hermione questioned. "Did you guys just join a cult?"

"Worse," Blaise whispered when they were out of Umbridge's hearing range. "We're like Umbridge's police."

"It's not so bad," Draco said. "Here," he pointed towards a familiar redhead racing down the corridors. "WEASLEY! Five points from Gryffindor for having your shirt untucked."

Potter's best friend stuck up his middle finger at them. "I'm a prefect and _you_ can't dock points from another house, asshole."

Prancing towards him, Pansy sing-songed, "yes we can." She displayed her dazzling badge."

"Let's see," considered Draco. "Ten points for profanity, ten for disrespecting your betters... that'll be all for now." Weasley bared his teeth at him, but Lavender Brown appeared at that moment and pulled him away.

"You might want to get a muzzle for your blood traitor dog of a boyfriend, Brown!" Theo called behind them. Their cackles echoed through the stone walls but Hermione was silent.

"What's wrong love?" Draco asked, noticing her silence.

She scowled towards Umbridge's office. "I can't believe that foul woman didn't let me be a part of her stupid 'squad'." She was aware she sounded petty, but if Lord Voldemort himself could get over his blood purity biases then why couldn't a Ministry employee? " **I'm** the one who told her about Potter's stupid club."

"We all know Umbridge is a bigoted cow," said Theo, putting an arm around her.

"Toad."

"Come again?" Her friend pulled back and she repeated herself, Daphne sounding her agreement.

"She's right. Sometimes I feel sorry for her when I see her dry, warty skin."

* * *

"Look!" Greg whispered. Hermione shoved him away. Their O.W.L's had begun and every waking moment was taken up by revision. Right now a thousand spells were rushing through her head as she juggled all the books obscuring her view of her friends. For Divination, as Daphne had said, you may just be able to blabber on about death and hellfire, but every one of Hermione's subjects required intense revision. She had no time for distractions.

"You're going to want to see this," someone jabbed her in the arm. She just shoved them away.

"I heard Hagrid got violently evicted, and McGonagall was injured in the fight. She's not even in the hospital wing, she was transferred to St Mungos!" A seventh year, who should _really_ have been revising, said. Well she didn't exactly need McGonagall while her exams were on, right? No need to distract herself with panic then.

* * *

When they received a summons from Umbridge her friends dragged her along to get her away from her books, despite the fact that, as she reminded them several times on the way to the disturbing pink office, she was not a member of the Inquisitorial Squad.

The Toad herself was waiting for them in the corridor outside her office. "What took you so-" she paused when she saw Hermione. "Why did you bring the Mudblood?" Hermione bristled at the insult, wishing their orders from Voldemort weren't so disturbingly passive aggressive. As soon as she had the chance she was going to _Avada_ that woman, perhaps artistically surrounded by the corpses shrieking cats. "Make yourself useful girl," Umbridge ordered. "Go fetch Professor Snape."

* * *

When Hermione returned with an extremely reluctant Snape her friends were each holding a Dumbledore's Army member as Umbridge shrieked into Potter's ear, ordering him to tell her who he was talking to through the fire. Potter was apparently not being co-operative so when she saw an extremely uninterested looking Snape she asked for some Veritaserum, which was, of course, entirely illegal to use on students. Hermione's head of house looked like he was struggling not to roll his eyes as he droned, "I'm afraid I'm all out of that particular potion after your _last_ interrogation of the boy."

"Then make some more!" Umbridge shrieked.

Snape looked to her. "Miss Granger how long does Veritaserum take to brew?"

"A month Sir," she parroted back immediately as though this were her exam.

"And therein lies the problem Headmistress." Snape turned to leave and a panicked looking Potter shouted something about someone having "Padfoot at the place where it's hidden", his hair wild and unruly.

"What code is he speaking?" Umbridge's soft voice was a growl now as she pushed Potter's chin back.

Snape just stared blankly. "I have no idea. Personally I think the boy would benefit from a stint at St Mungos." And then with a flourish he was gone.

An infuriated looking Umbridge drew her wand, muttering something about "what Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him" and as the familiar word slipped from her mouth Hermione debated casting her own silent _crucio_ but no, a cunning plan was what was needed right now, not brute force.

As Umbridge was distracted with torturing Potter, Hermione leant over to the nearest captive, who luckily happened to be neither a Weasley nor a forgetful first encounter of hers but Cho Chang, and whispered a set of quick instructions to her. The sixth year girl looked at her for a moment, as if to see if she was being tricked, but her want to preserve Potter prevailed and she called out. "Stop! I'll tell you everything! Just- stop hurting Harry!" As predicted, Umbridge dropped her wand to her side and turned wide greedy eyes to Chang.

"SPEAK THEN!"

"We were tr-trying to contact," the other members of Potter's Defence club stared at her with hurt eyes. Dear Salazar, Hermione hoped they wouldn't give it away. "Dum-Dumbledore." Umbridge put an arm around Chang, urging her to continue, commending her for telling the truth. Thankfully she was so obsessed she didn't notice the looks of confusion the Gryffindorks and their friends were radiating from every direction. "We don't know where he is so we've been trying lots of places but we had to tell him-"

"Had to tell him _**what**_?" Umbridge hissed.

Chang cowered. She was playing the terrified role remarkably well. Or maybe she was just terrified. Glancing towards Harry she said, "th-the weapon. It's ready."

Umbridge, who looked like she might explode from excitement, ordered Chang to take the Inquisitorial Squad to the weapon, but as instructed, the other girl convinced her to go alone to limit the potential shame to herself. Dragging Potter and Chang by the ears Umbridge hurried away and Hermione let out a low chuckle. "You're welcome."

The Weaselette glared at her. "For what? You just sent our friends into the Forbidden Forest with the devil incarnate."

"Oh sweetheart," Blaise, who was still holding her, stroked her face. "I'm pretty sure she just saved your gorgeous ass." The redhead wiggled away from him, but he was right.

"Let them go," Hermione instructed her friends. Everyone in the room looked towards her in confusion and she rolled her eyes. "I don't know about you lot, but I'd rather go to bed and dream about the suffering Umbridge is undergoing than wait here for the extreme unlikelihood that is her return." Draco studied her face for a moment, and then was the first to drop his prisoner. The others quickly followed suite.

* * *

"ARGH!" Hermione collapsed into the sofa in the Slytherin common room, awakening Vince from his nap.

"What's wrong, love?" Draco asked, wiping the tear off of her face. Theo, who had trailed in behind her was shaking his head but it was too little too late.

"I-I," His girlfriend grabbed a cushion and screamed into it, Draco scuttling backwards, to the immense amusement of his friends, though they each received a cushion to their head for their laughter. "I mixed up _Ehwaz_ and _Eihwaz_!" At his confused look, Theo mouthed _'Partnership and Defence'_. "I've failed. I've failed. I've failed."

"Babe-"

"Don't _**babe**_ me Draco Malfoy!" Hermione screamed, clawing her way out of his arms. "How could I be so _stupid_?" She muttered to herself. Wisely, Draco chose not to intervene. "Everything I worked so hard for, all my dreams- gone."

"You-Know-Who'll always have a place for you," Blaise said warmly, and promptly received another cushion to the face.

"'Mione," Daphne put a hand to her shoulder. "One question won't make you fail."

"You're right..." They all looked puzzled. Was that really all it took to- "but I won't get full marks, now will I? And an E in a sea of O's-"

"Is incredible," Draco kissed her cheek and she brushed him away, but reluctantly agreed to hold off on her panicking until closer to the time of their results. Hopefully, he wouldn't be anywhere nearby in the countdown to them.

* * *

On the last day of school they all found themselves gathered around a copy of the Daily Prophet. Fudge had officially confirmed the 'lie' that Voldemort was back.

"Next year's gonna be one hell of a ride," said Blaise, an excited grin on his face.

"We have to get through this summer first," Hermione reminded him. Exam results, the Dark Mark, she didn't know which she was more nervous for. That was a lie; definitely the exam results.

* * *

 _ **I feel you Hermione, just got my GCSE results back today.**_


	7. Sixth Year

**_Sixth Year:_**

With shaking hands, Hermione began to open the envelope containing the pathway to her future. Either way she knew there would be twists and turns but what was within would decide whether the road would be flat, or bumpy and littered with brambles. Finally, she gathered her strength and ripped open the envelope. Scanning the page, her smile grew with each beautiful circular letter, but suddenly she was hit with the harsh lines of an E. Stomping her foot, Hermione let out an angry shriek of "FUCKING UMBRIDGE!" The footsteps of Theo, Blaise and Draco pounded into her guest bedroom, and they glanced between each other and the seething brunette. "If that _bitch_ had let us actually practise before the exam maybe we would have known how to cast the damn spells."

"I wouldn't worry Miss Granger," Voldemort said, from where he lounged in the doorway. None of them had noticed him behind them, his silent movements were often quite unnerving. "Once we have control of Hogwarts we'll be implementing a new subject which tackles both the Defence and the Dark Arts side of things." That actually sounded like a good idea- even more content for her her to learn and master. "Now that you've all read your results," he looked at the four of them in turn. _"Who's first?"_

* * *

 _Ladies_ _first_ , Blaise, ever the gentleman, had suggested. The boys were waiting in one of the Manor's drawing rooms, but she was in the ballroom, where a crowd of Death Eaters circled her and Voldemort, ready to welcome her to their ranks, some more readily than others. Draco's aunt truly was as terrible as he'd said. When they'd first met a couple of days ago in the corridor she'd pinned Hermione up against the wall by the throat and started to whisper the Imperious curse, before Draco had emerged from his room and speedily disarmed his aunt.

"Will it hurt?" Hermione asked the Dark Lord in a quiet voice so the others couldn't hear. She'd never broken a bone and her parents were dentists so she'd never had any teeth problems, meaning she hadn't ever experienced real pain.

"Immensely," He whispered lowly into her ear and she shivered from the chills that ran down her spine. "But the rewards will be immense."

And so, content in that knowledge, she bit down on her tongue as it happened, distracting her pain to elsewhere to stop herself from screaming in front of her enemies, Draco's parents, and her favourite teacher. When it was done she thrust out her forearm and lazily traced the serpent and skull insignia. When she reached the end of the mark she slowly looked up and saw Bellatrix raging silently, practically rocking back and forth with displeasure. _Excellent._

* * *

The day after they'd all received their Dark Marks, while the boys were still recovering, Hermione was called to see Voldemort. She knocked politely on Lucius' office, which the Dark Lord had taken over as his own some time ago, and smiled prettily. His face drew up into a grin, the one she knew meant he was happy to see her. "Miss Granger, please take a seat." When she'd done as he said he stood up, that was something about him she'd noticed. Whether he drew himself up, stood on a platform or forced others to kneel, he liked to be at a higher level to feel more powerful than them. "How are you doing?"

"Very well my lord," she batted her lashes a little. "But I don't suppose you invited me here just for idle chit-chat, I'm sure you have many more important matters to attend to."

He chuckled. "Quite right. Well I'll get straight to it then... I'd like to offer you the chance to prove yourself to those who might oppose you within our ranks."

Never one to turn down a chance like that, Hermione eagerly asked, "what's the mission?"

"Kill Dumbledore." The words cut harshly through the room like a knife. Hermione glanced up. Joining the Death Eaters was one thing, homicide was another, but despite his use of the word "offer", she doubted this was anything but a command. "I'll be giving the boys their own assignment to help you out, which they can explain to you at a later date... but it will transport the Death Eaters to you at Hogwarts, since, as I'm sure you're aware-"

"Apparition cannot be used." She finished for him. She had to have read 'Hogwarts: A History' at least a hundred times by now. "No need to explain further, my lord. I'll do it."

* * *

"Can you repair it?" Theo asked Borgin for the third time. The owner couldn't seem to get past the fact that there was little use for one vanishing cabinet without another.

"For God's sake we have the other one!" Draco exclaimed. "Now can you fix the damn thing or not?"

Finally Borgin agreed to repair the cabinet and the three boys looked between each other with matching victorious snakelike smirks.

* * *

"New Defense professor?" Greg suggested, pointing to the elderly newcomer at the staff table.

Blaise shook his head. "He invited me to his compartment on the train. He used to teach here years ago and now he's taking back his role as Potions professor."

"But what about..." Vince pointed up to Snape, and Draco smirked.

"I guess he finally got the job he's always wanted. Sneaky bastard didn't even drop a hint."

Pleased as she was for Snape, Hermione was more focussed on what Blaise had said, "I'm sorry... why did he invite you to his compartment?"

"Slughorn used to invite promising and/or influential students to join his Slug Club. He decided to restart it now that he's-" when the Italian noticed the way Hermione's orbs were quickly becoming thunderous he stopped himself.

"Who else is in this club?"

"Uh... Cormac McLaggen, Melinda Bobbin, Ginny-"

"Weaselette?" Hermione practically shrieked.

"If it helps Theo and I were rejected too," Draco put a teasing arm around her, which she quickly shoved off. "Apparently our fathers were in the original club, but their legacy doesn't exactly put us in a favourable light where Old Sluggy is concerned."

"You were not rejected," Blaise quickly did the damage control needed from Draco's words. "He didn't know about you. When I told him about you he was... a little shocked, but determined to get you to attend the next meeting."

Hermione's eyes narrowed up at the staff table. What she read between Blaise's lines was that their new professor had been surprised to discover a Muggle-born was top of their class. "Don't tell me we have another Umbridge on our hands."

"Whatever happened to her?" Pansy piped up curiously and Hermione smiled contentedly of the position she had left Umbridge in last year. She hadn't heard anything since- hopefully she'd been mauled by werewolves or trampled by centaurs.

* * *

When Hermione first met Slughorn he did indeed invite her to join the Slug Club, an offer she primly accepted. She, Blaise, Draco and Theo settled themselves at a table for four, and were listening to Slughorn's welcoming speech when The Two Musketeers burst in through the back doors. "Sorry we're late!" Potter apologised, something she doubted he would have done had this been Snape.

"Don't worry yourself m'boy." The Potions Professor told them to get out their textbooks and Potter proceeded to awkwardly explain how he and his pal hadn't expected to be able to take Potions, so they didn't "exactly" have the textbook. "I guess we know who didn't get an O..." Theo observed, to the chortles of the rest of the class. "Of course," Slughorn passed them two spare copies with a friendly smile. _Hmm..._ Hermione narrowed her eyes at Blaise, who quickly turned away. He hadn't said so earlier but- _famous_ \- Potter certainly fit that criteria, for better or for worse, and Slughorn seemed awfully chummy with him. Perhaps Weaselette _had_ demonstrated the Bat Bogey Hex impressively, but _**Potter**_ in the apparently oh-so-exclusive club?

Hermione's opportunity to prove what Slughorn had heard about her right came almost immediately. He instructed them to brew the Draught of Living Death, and said that the winner would receive a prize she and her friends could put to good use with the challenges set them by the Dark Lord this year. To her utter frustration though, it wasn't her that won the Felix Felicis but _**Potter**_. She'd never failed to make a potion, and the humiliation she felt at doing so for the first time in front of a new teacher was crippling. It made even less sense that Potter, in their class of geniuses and Weasley, would be the only one to succeed. Perhaps it was just luck. Yes. That had to be it.

* * *

"I'm not sure those gloves go with your outfit," Vincent mocked Theo, who responded by dropping the necklace so it almost fell on his friend's uncovered hand. The other boy lept away, but Theo had caught it already.

"That's what it thought..." he muttered, and placed the necklace in a conspicuous yet not too obviously planted position on the road.

"Someone's coming," his opinionated watchman informed him, so the two of them hastened up the road, their mouths twisting into grimaces as they heard the distinctly _female_ screams of anguish.

* * *

"Potter's already blaming you," Theo told Draco. Hermione was blatantly ignoring them, eyes bleary-eyed from staring so hard at her Potions book in an attempt to perfect this batch. Potter had miraculously become a master Potioneer. Either he was on a huge lucky streak or he was somehow cheating. Hermione refused to believe there was another option, although, was Potter really resourceful and cunning enough to cheat?

"I was in detention," an innocent sounding Draco preened, and Potter looked over from his frustratingly perfectly toned teal potion to glare at his nemesis.

* * *

Snape caught her attention as she was about to follow Daphne into Transfiguration. "Miss Granger?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"I haven't had much time to talk to you this year, what with you not taking Defence-"

"Do you miss me Professor?" She teased, shifting her bag casually onto her shoulder.

Snape gave her a look that had her struggling to keep a straight face. "I actually wanted to talk to you about some of the... self-defeating choices that you have made lately."

She eyed him suspiciously and carefully, aware of the students all around filing into class, asked, "I'm confident in my choices and I'm sure they'll benefit my future. Is the _reason_ that I made these choices what's really bothering you Professor?"

"Are you sure you're willing to sacrifice certain things and certain parts of yourself?"

"Yes." She said shortly.

* * *

Slughorn hosted a Christmas party for his club, which Hermione was determined to impress at. She might be stunning him with the superior quality of her homework and answers in class, but Potter continued to best her in practical sections. Tonight she would be able to display her considerably knowledge on many different subject matters. Draco, however, quickly put a spanner in her plan when he told her that the Dark Lord had requested the boys wait by the cabinet all evening. Borgin thought he might have figured it out and Voldemort was going to send a low ranking Death Eater through to see if it worked. "They don't need you there," Hermione grabbed Draco's hand. "Wouldn't you rather be my arm candy?"

"Of course love," He pecked her on the cheek and turned. "But Blaise was actually invited to this thing and he can't go, so I certainly can't. You don't turn away from a request from the Dark Lord."

She glared at the back of his head as he headed back up to the others, but she changed into the silver dress she'd worn to meet the Malfoys and the Dark Lord, and headed down to Slughorn's office.

"Poor Granger," Potter called when he saw her enter alone. "Your boyfriend finally stopped resisting his racist feelings and admitted he hates you?"

He was one to talk. He was with Looney Lovegood. "Cho Chang reject you again Potter?" He shifted uncomfortably and she rolled her eyes. It was easier to hit a nerve on Potter than to convince Lockhart his books were beloved classics. "And to answer your rather rude question, no. Blaise is sick and he passed it on to Draco."

Potter's loud 'pft' was a clear indication he didn't believe her, but in that moment Cormac McLaggen approached and began talking to her. "You couldn't get a date either?" She highly doubted that. Objectively speaking of course, Cormac was the handsomest boy at Hogwarts- if you were into that whole too-handsome-not-to-be-porcelain look.

"My boyfriend's sick," she made sure to speak clearly so that even the pretty fuckboy of Hogwarts could hear her inflection. Her words didn't stop him from resting a hand on the wall beside her and flashing a signature bright smile, his teeth almost as white as Lockhart's had been.

"I'm sorry to hear that. You deserve someone who'll drop everything to be with you." The words stung a little, she had to admit. If the Dark Lord suddenly changed his mind, as sociopaths were prone to do, and ordered Draco to drop the Mudblood, what would he do?

Despite her secret fears, Hermione smiled sweetly at McLaggen, waiting for his hand to move closer. As it came down to touch a curl she quickly slapped it away and pinned it against the wall. The darker shade of blond than she loved, the dull dark blue eyes instead of glinting silver- it was all a faded impersonation of the boy she loved. She leant into McLaggen's ear and whispered, "its never gonna happen McLaggen. You are no Draco Malfoy." Releasing him, she turned around to go find someone more pleasant to talk to, and found her boyfriend standing in the doorway a few paces away, looking at her with a love struck expression. "Draco!" She raced towards him and kissed him passionately, a mixture of laughter and words spraying out of her mouth as he spun her around, saying something about finishing early, and she stared into his eyes happily.

"That's my girl..." he whispered.

* * *

"We're gonna smash these losers," Draco cackled as he and the others watched the Gryffindorks practise. Well, the boys were watching. The girls were reading- fashion magazines for Daphne and Pansy and an Advanced Potions spell book for Hermione, who was still obsessed with proving her moniker to be accurate.

"Yes..." Blaise exhaled passionately. Odd, sure, but who was he to question undying loyal to his team?

"This year we're gonna win back the House Cup," Draco continued, to a dreamy, "ohhh definitely" from the Italian. Narrowing his eyes, he tried, "If Weasley'll be so kind as to contin-"

"She's a perfect ginger angel." He followed Blaise's eyes up to Weaselette was leaning forward, a focussed, hateful look on her face.

"Blaise..." Hermione asked, "did anyone give you anything to eat today?" Draco peered over her shoulder to read the title of the open page in her lap: love potions.

"Vince and I stole some chocolates from Potter and hid them in our dorm for later," Greg said. "And then they disappeared." He glared at Blaise accusingly. Their friend just giggled like a little girl.

"Oh this is incredible." Hermione's voice was thick with amused joy. "Weaselette made Potter a _love_ potion!"

Daphne grabbed Blaise's arm. "Come on, lover boy." Then to the others, "I'll take him to Madam Pomfrey."

Theo glared at his girlfriend. "You're just trying to get away from watching Quidditch."

"I won't deny it!" Daphne held up her hands, and then, with an effort, pulled Blaise away from his staring at Ginevra Weasley.

"I'll help!" Hermione quickly volunteered.

* * *

Hermione belatedly wondered if perhaps Pomfrey's cure wasn't as good as she had promised when she saw Blaise mournfully staring over at the Gryffindors on the other side of the hall, but then she recalled how he had held her last year when they'd captured Dumbledore's Army for Umbridge. Perhaps he'd had these feelings all along and they were only now coming to the surface. It was rather like her mother's favourite story 'Romeo and Juliet', only with a blood traitor Juliet who would happily murder her Romeo.

"Did you guys hear Weasley was poisoned?" Pansy said suddenly and excitably. Hermione looked up at her shocked. "Oh, he's not dead. Unfortunately. Apparently Potter saved him a bezoar stone." Of course. Last Potions lesson they'd had to make a cure for poison and when Slughorn came around to inspect them, Hermione's finally the best in the class, he'd clapped in delight when he saw Potter smugly holding out a bezoar stone.

* * *

Draco clenched his eyes shut, gripping the edges of the sink. He gazed up into the mirror and, hating what faced him, punched it, smashing the glass all around him. As he stared at the shards of glass on his hand the tears falling down his face weren't for them, but the anger and shame he felt towards himself. All the pain he'd always caused Hermione... _Salazar he loved her so much_... he couldn't stand to let any more pain befall her, so he'd been trying to kill Dumbledore all year so she wouldn't have to. He'd enlisted his friends to help but the plans; the cursed necklace, the poisoned mulled mead. Each attempt had failed, as though he was destined to eternally be the cause of her suffering.

Hearing the scuffle of footsteps behind him he drew his wand and turned to see a somewhat sheepish looking Potter. The two rivals sized each other up silently for a moment and then Draco struck, using a spell he'd known for years. Potter's response though, was something he'd never heard before. _Sectumsempera_.

Cuts appeared all over Draco's body and as he fell to the floor, covered in tears and blood, Snape appeared. He pointed his wand at Draco and muttered something and then the blood disappeared and his skin was whole again . "Who would have thought you knew such Dark Magic Potter?" His head of house grabbed Potter by the robe.

"Dark Magic?" The Saviour of the Wizarding World asked in a panicky tone.

"Yes," Snape snapped. "Dark Magic _which is against school rules_ no less." As he doled out Potter's punishment Draco pulled himself up and tried to shape his face into a sneer, but it wouldn't form. Every time it was almost there it would slip away.

Only when he'd sent Potter away did Snape turn back to Draco. He opened and then closed his mouth as if he wanted to tell him something but thought better of it. Instead all he said was "go back to the dungeons Draco," in a remarkably soft voice.

* * *

Waiting in the Room of Requirement with Draco, Theo and Blaise around her, Hermione's throat constricted and her heart rate sped up as each Death Eater came through the vanishing cabinet. This was it. This was the night she would prove herself, and win control of Hogwarts for Voldemort. When Bellatrix saw her the woman bared her teeth and prepared to advance, but Draco thrust out a hand in front of her, his face thunderous. "Aunt Bella, I swear, you touch her, I'll kill you." Bellatrix studied her nephew's face and then, letting out a mad cackle, linked her arm through her husband's and marched to the front of her fellow Death Eaters.

"Comrades in arms," she began what was sure to be a long speech. "The moment has finally come for us to begin to seize control for the Dark Lord by killing his greatest enemy-"

"That's actually my part," Hermione smiled innocently. Bellatrix glared, but the seventeen year old ignored her and drew the attention of the waiting Death Eaters.

"We'll need a group to cover me and other groups to patrol around the area."

Bellatrix quickly volunteered to cover her, insisting that she was the best killer they had and to waste her talents would be a crime. Reluctantly, Hermione agreed but made sure the others in that group were people Draco had said were a little more trustworthy, difficult since Voldemort had sent his most bloodthirsty but not necessarily open-minded on this mission. She didn't want any of her friends to see her murder their headmaster, so she asked them to join other patrols, which they hesitantly agreed to.

When everything was decided upon her group left the Room of Requirement and moved in the shadows towards the tower she'd studied the stars in for five years. When they arrived Bellatrix fired the Dark Mark into the sky, a little prematurely, and Hermione pushed past her into the Astronomy Tower, immediately disarming her waiting headmaster with a simple _expelliarmus_.

"Miss Granger..." Dumbledore exhaled a shaky, tired but laughing breath, even as she continued to march towards him. "I had a feeling it would be you." She cocked her head to the side. "When you were sorted, you were a Hatstall, someone who-"

"Takes over five minutes to be sorted," she interrupted his slow speech.

He studied her. "Indeed. I believe you could have been sorted into several houses, and that would have shaped you and your life, made lovers enemies and enemies friends."

"If you're trying to tell me to abandon my friends and join hands with Potter and the Weasels you're going to be disappointed, old man."

He nodded in defeat. "Very well, Miss Granger. Go ahead," she glanced at him suspiciously for a second, pondering on if he was trying to trick her. Then she remembered Bellatrix on the other side of the door and knew if she failed at this attempt she would never gain the respect of her, or any of the others. She pointed her wand at the man standing in front of the balcony and shouted " ** _AVADA KEDAVRA!_** " His body fell backwards instantaneously and she saw it fall down, down, down to the rocky ground. In the silence that cloaked her, her own loud breath sounded like a racket. Her heart was pounding and... alive. Dumbledore' heart would never beat again, his breath would never again be released to the air.

"Well done," she didn't turn around to face the patronising voice behind her, instead waiting for her to walk up right behind her where she peered down at her headmaster's crumpled body on the floor.

"Where are the others?" She asked, her voice cracking. Bellatrix grabbed her by the neck, evoking a reflex gasp as her breath was drawn out of her throat. She thought that the crazy woman might just strangle her, but then she felt the tip of a wand against her neck.

"It truly was...very well done," Bellatrix whispered. "Too bad you won't be able to take the credit. _**Av**_ -"

" _ **AVADA KEDAVRA!**_ " Bellatrix's limp body collapsed onto her, knocking her backwards, but her saviour pulled her back onto the steady ground, wrapping his arms around her and whispering comforting words into her ear. It wasn't until he started rubbing circles on her back that she even noticed she was sobbing.

* * *

As Draco rushed toward the Astronomy Tower he wondered if she'd done it yet. He'd escaped from his group. _As if he wasn't going to come to try and protect her._ He owed her that much.

When he reached the towers the collapsed bodies outside the door were an immediate indication that he had better hurry the hell up. Pushing open the door, he saw Bellatrix by the balcony with her wand at Hermione's throat and without hesitation he screamed **_"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_** Racing forwards he pulled his girlfriend back onto her feet and clung tightly to her to check that she was real. As he comforted her, all he could think about was how glad he was he'd gotten here in time, but when he looked down and saw his aunt's dead body at his feet he felt a lump in his throat. His views had changed immensely over the years, but blood had always been important to Draco; be it blood purity, blood superiority, or blood ties. It had even hurt him to know the blood traitor, his cousin, Sirius Black was dead. To have killed his aunt, he froze. How would he tell his mother?

Still, he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

* * *

As she stood at the top of the Astronomy Tower watching the sun rise, the echoes of last night around her, Hermione was turned around. "Potter?" She widened her eyes. "What are you doing here?" In the aftermath of Dumbledore's death, Snape, Voldemort's puppet headmaster, had smoothly taken over his role. The surviving Death Eaters had marched on the Gryffindor common room, but Potter and Weasley had been nowhere to be found.

"I saw you," Potter said in a accusatory voice. "I was frozen under an invisibility cloak and I saw you kill him last night." The two of them watched each other for a moment. "And then I saw her try to kill you." She shivered involuntarily as the memory of hands around her neck slammed its way into her head. "They don't accept you Granger. They never have and they never will. Come with us! We can help you!"

She narrowed her eyes at him. " **She** was a madwoman. They're not like that. Not at all." She gave him a hard look. "Maybe Dumbledore was right last night, maybe in another life we would have been friends, but we got stuck with this one and I'm afraid our fates don't align." To prove her point, she yanked up her sleeve, revealing the black mark that stood out so harshly against her skin. His intake of breath told her that she'd succeeded in startling him. "You'd be wise to accept _my_ help. Get out of here Potter. It's the only chance I'm going to offer you."


	8. Seventh Year

**_Seventh Year_** :

Everything seemed to be falling into place for Voldemort and the Dark Side. Without riots or uprisings he'd swiftly gained control of education, the workforce and the government.

Meanwhile, Hermione's actions at the end of last year had gained the begrudged respect of most Death Eaters, although that didn't stop them from whispering to her in passing that the Dark Lord had plans for her. They said he was going to marry her off to Draco and her boyfriend- or husband- would replace the currently Imperio'd minister for magic, with her as the silent, smiling society wife, showing the people of Wizarding Britain that the Death Eaters were no longer a prejudiced organisation, at least not in the racist way, apparently they still had a way to go before sexism in their ranks was defeated.

* * *

As Potter's birthday approached, when the protection around him would drop, allowing Voldemort to finally kill him, the Order would be moving him to a safe house, Snape, as their triple agent, told them. The Dark Lord ordered a group of Death Eaters to go apprehend them and bring Potter back for him to kill _himself_ , a point he emphasised strongly. Once everyone else had filed out of the meeting Hermione sidled up to the Dark Lord. She was about to speak when the sound of low hypnotic hissing drew her attention. Her eyes followed the snake as it slid along the floor, up the table leg, down the long table and stopped at its master. Voldemort hissed something down to Nagini in Parseltongue, and then in English, "Yes Miss Granger?" he said without looking up.

"I..." she was still staring entranced at the snake, but she forced herself to say what she had to. "I want to go on the mission to retrieve Potter."

"Of course you do," the Dark Lord said in a bored tone. It drew a sharp contrast to the usually intrigued edge to his voice whenever he spoke to her, and she wondered if she'd asked too much. Only his select Death Eaters were going on this mission, some of his most trusted. Killing Harry Potter was, after all something that he'd been waiting to do for almost seventeen years. She and the next generation of Death Eaters may technically be adults in the Wizarding World who could apparate, well, those of them that had passed their tests, and use magic outside of school, but they were still somewhat seen as weak children, she was at least. Instead of denying her request though, the Dark Lord brusquely nodded. She stared at him for a moment, surprised, but when he didn't say anything else she made to leave. "On one condition." She turned around. "Tell me, have you heard of the Elder wand?"

Slowly, Hermione nodded. "The most powerful wand in the world. One of the three Deathly Hallows. Are you looking for it, my lord?"

"Found it," Voldemort corrected. "Some time ago. It was in the possession of Albus Dumbledore."

Dumbledore? Well then, that meant that the wand she'd kept upstairs as a memory of that night, the most powerful wand in existence, was now...hers- but not for long, if she valued her life. "I have it my lord," she said. "And I give it to you willingly."

"Willingly? You would give me such an object willingly?" Voldemort smiled eerily, but Hermione had always known how to choose her battles and this was not one that would be worth the casualties. "That is why you are my favourite of my servants, my dear." She didn't miss the repeated possessive pronouns, but she smiled half-teasing, half-elegant, as Daphne had shown her, what felt like another lifetime ago.

* * *

Draco hadn't been happy that she'd gone behind his back and volunteered herself for a dangerous mission. It had resulted in their first real fight since they had started dating two years ago, with him hissing that she was a selfish bint who didn't give a shit about the pain her actions might cause others, and her shouting that he didn't own her and he never would. She could make her own decisions without having them approved by him first. She refused to just be his blushing, agreeable _society wife_. She'd left straight after their screaming match, ignoring the looks of the many bystanders waiting in the manor, without so much as a goodbye peck. As she rode the broomstick she'd been provided with to Potter's she felt guilt wash over her in a mess of pain and regret, knowing that Draco would never treat her in that way, it had been her own insecurities acting up. But she had to be a Death Eater right now, not an emotional teenage girl, that had been the whole point of this exercise.

As she flew in a low formation with the others they spotted several figures taking off from the ground. Someone near her cursed under her breath and as they approached she saw each Order member was with an identical black haired, glasses clad, scar faced, gangly teenage boy. Polyjuice potion. Clever really.

The Dark Lord directed them to split up, his voice cracking with fiery anger the same strength as his hellish eyes. Immediately, the Death Eater beside Hermione, Vince's father, withdrew his wand. "What are you doing?" She hissed, pushing his arm back.

"Get out of my way, girl," Said Crabbe Sr. "If we shoot them all down we'll get the right one eventually."

"They're not going to change back if you kill them," she reasoned. "And besides, the Dark Lord wants to kill Potter himself." She scanned the sky. All the Potters and their guardians rode on broomsticks or Thestrals, she realised that she could see them now with a start, except for one. Potter was an excellent flyer, they'd never suspect him to be stuck in a side car. "That's him." She pointed.

Crabbe took her word for it and instantly shot an **_"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_** through the air. Resisting the urge to knock the _idiot_ off his broom, she watched as the curse narrowly missed her classmate and instead struck his prized Snowy Owl. "HEDWIG!" Potter cried out in anguish as his pride and joy fell to its death, confirming her suspicions once and for all. The Groundskeeper pulled him back onto the sidecar before he himself fell, doing the Dark Lord's work for him. Hagrid pressed a button on his motorbike and dragon-fire shot out of the back, boosting them away and causing Hermione and her over enthusiastic companion to abruptly halt their rooms to get away from the dangerous heat.

"My Lord!" Hermione cried when she saw Voldemort off to her right. Potter's eyes connected with hers as he looked over her shoulder pleadingly. One final futile attempt. "He's that one!" Voldemort instantly dove to where she pointed, the killing curse on his lips, but before the Elder wand could do its job his target dove as well, through the protective wards of a safehouse- though she suspected the wards couldn't block out the dark wizard's inflamed cursing as it pounded like a drum on them.

* * *

Their sombre return to Malfoy Mansion was burst when Draco, staking out on the steps, saw them and a look of complete relief filled his normally subdued features. "You're alive," he breathed against her hair after a passionate kiss filled with anger and ecstasy and frustration.

"Of course I'm alive," she smacked his arm. "You thought _Potter_ of all people would take me down?"

He bristled and said sarcastically "I'm sorry I was worried about your safety. Next time I won't bother." As she made to move away he grabbed her arm. "No, no, I take it back. I don't think I can do that." He forced her to look into his eyes, waiting until brown collided with grey. "As you flew away I felt this awful guilt in my stomach, and I started panicking about what I would do if I never saw you again and the last thing I'd done was to yell at you. I thought we were past that."

"This is _us_ ," she reminded him. "We were both always pretty explosive in each others' vicinity. Maybe it's inevitable there'll be a few arguments, but I felt the same way." She squeezed his hand. "I'd better go report to the Dark Lord. He is **not** going to be happy."

"Hermione, I-" she glanced back over her shoulder, already a few steps away. He sighed. "I'm just glad you're alright."

* * *

Come September Hermione was thrilled to be getting away from the Dark Lord's increasing frustration, which often resulted in things being thrown across the room and leaving onlookers with a pretty serious concussion. They'd had a lead on Potter being at the Burrow for one of the many Weasels' wedding but when they'd arrived he'd made his escape with Weasley. Then again they'd almost caught him in Muggle London when the idiot had said Voldemort's name, allowing them to track him, but he continued to evade them, and hadn't been seen since that sighting. "He can't just vanish into thin air!" Voldemort had screamed at them all in a meeting one day. He'd then proceeded to double over, having them all rushing to his side, but he threatened them all with _crucio_ if they didn't get out. As she left the room she'd heard him hissing to Lucius " _they've destroyed another one. We have to stop them._ "

* * *

Draco found himself more bored than anything without his childhood nemesis around to insult. When Slytherin won the first Quidditch match of the year against Gryffindor he didn't even have the heart to gloat. Blaise's incessant crush on the She-Weasel was the only entertainment he had, and that was going nowhere. Every time his hopelessly in love roommate stared at Weasley with moony eyes she'd either flip him off or use a jinx she'd invented herself. Sometimes he was surprised that girl hadn't ended up in Slytherin.

The girls were all looking forward to Christmas; lots of chatter about dresses and hairstyles and dancing. Personally he always found the annual Yule Ball a dull affair, that was until he found out who the surprise guest would be this year.

The appearance of Dolores Umbridge, dressed in the same shade of pink, albeit a flouncy ballgown this time, as ever, shocked him. "That bitch is still alive?" He hissed at Theo and Blaise. "If I'd known Hermione was just going to send her into the forest for a damn holiday I'd have Avada'd her mysel-"

He was cut off as their dates; Daphne, Pansy and Hermione entered down the stairs leading to the ballroom. Hermione was always gorgeous to him whether she'd slicked back her hair with several layers of charms or rolled out of bed with it in a frazzled bush, but the stray curls that tickled the back of her neck today gave off an effortless beauty. The angelic white dress clung to her body in all the right places. The simple makeup on her face illuminated it, and drew you towards her sparkling eyes, her captivating smile. He wasn't the only one looking at his girlfriend. Umbridge's eyes widened when she saw the 'mudblood' at such a prestigious gathering, and looked around wildly as if confused as to why no-one else was rioting. Draco began to approach Hermione, their eyes locked onto each other, but was hit with a familiar sense of déjà vu as the Dark Lord once again cut in front of him, offering his girlfriend his arm. In that moment Draco was tempted to challenge his master to a duel right then and there, and he supposed from the laughter of his friends that his expression gave his thoughts away.

"Dolores," the Dark Lord said as he and Hermione paused before their Fifth Year teacher. "How... interesting to finally meet you." The toad-faced woman stumbled into an awkward curtsy, earning a barely concealed and rather unladylike snort from his dear mother. "I've heard such... _**things**_ about you." Draco glanced at his friends, wondering if any of them knew what was going on, but they all wore his matching bemused expression. "What a lovely locket. Don't you think so, Hermione dear?" Despite the obvious ridiculousness of even the idea, Draco found a familiar green-eyed dragon rearing its head in himself. It happened more often than he would care to admit, especially recently, what with his girlfriend and Finch-Fletchley sharing the Heads dorm. Apparently the _oh-so-friendly_ Hufflepuff had no qualms about walking around their shared common room topless.

"Yes my lord, certainly," Hermione's voice betrayed nothing, it was only the signals Draco had grown accustomed to that told him she was just as confused as the rest of them. "A little gaudy, although I suppose it does work if you have a plain face." Daphne covered her mouth with her hand, while Pansy showed no such restraint, instead letting out a loud giggle.

The Dark Lord himself chuckled, looking endearingly at Hermione before back to the enraged face of Umbridge that was getting closer to the pink of her dress by the second. "Tell me Dolores, where did you come by such an item?"

"It's a family heirloom," Umbridge was once again preening. "The S is for Selwyn," she looked pointedly at Hermione now and sneered "a true, old _Pure-blood_ family."

Voldemort nodded along as if he was fascinated by this new information. "I had one very similar." At this, Umbridge's sneer faltered- just a little. "I was shown it to me while I worked at Borgin and Burkes and found myself intrigued by it- even more so when I discovered it was my birthright." As Umbridge fidgeted with her fat pink fingers uncomfortably the Dark Lord took a step closer. "It was golden with a serpentine S inlaid with glittering, green stones. My locket stood for something different of course, its creator, my ancestor... Salazar Slytherin." He made a show of narrowing his eyes and lifting the locket off of Umbridge's chest where her heart pounded loud enough for them all to hear in the now otherwise silent room, peering closer at it. "My dear Dolores," he drawled. "Don't you know that _you must not tell lies_?" Hermione let out a devilish, amused cackle, wonderfully oxymoronic to her angelic appearance. "I will let you handle this one, sweetheart." Voldemort handed his wand to Hermione and gestured her forward with a Cheshire Cat smile.

Tapping the wand absentmindedly on her hand as though it weren't a dangerous weapon, Hermione drew closer and closer to Umbridge, who stepped back, only to run into Theo, Blaise and Draco, who all smiled equally evilly as the darkest wizard to ever live, wiggling their fingers at their ex-professor as though this were a pleasant greeting, not her execution. "As if you could be capable of such a spell," Umbridge sneered, foolishly.

Hermione put her wand under the woman's chin, her eyes wild with vengeance. "Look into my eyes and tell me these aren't those of someone capable of murder." She smiled, revealing her pearly white teeth. "I'm going to enjoy this immensely." And as the killing curse left her smirking lips for the second time, Draco knew she had.

* * *

The next big holidays were Easter. Draco and Hermione were going on a double date with Theo and Daphne, in fact, they were almost out of the metaphorical door when Narcissa called for Draco. "Can you pretend you didn't hear her?" Theo whined. "We haven't been on a date in months."

"Am I not exciting enough for you Theodore?" Daphne questioned, hands on hips, and Theo's look became one of horror.

"Now you've stepped in it mate," Draco chuckled.

"I'm glad my downfall amuses you!" Theo called after his friend as he made his way down the hall, the others following behind him after a moment.

When they entered the drawing room, Narcissa and Lucius stood with three men- Snatchers- two of whom were holding two familiar boys who were staring down at the floor like their lives depended on it. Which, incidentally, they did. "Draco," Narcissa faced her son. "We need you to identify these boys." She spoke softly but he could hear the tinge of desperation mixed in. "We must be sure before we contact the Dark Lord." Slowly he stepped forward, ready to condemn them. He should do it. Despite the bruises on their faces and the signs of having lived roughly for over half a year, he could immediately tell that it was them. And yet... something made him reluctant. Maybe he was having second thoughts, maybe he didn't want to lose his competition, but either way those thoughts disappeared when Hermione squeezed his hand comfortingly. It was a promise that she'd support him no matter what he wanted to do, but he wouldn't let her or his friends suffer for him letting Potter slip out of Voldemort's clutches yet again. "It's them," he confirmed. All the adults in the room looked thrilled at the prospect of being the ones to deliver Potter unto the Dark Lord. Lucius reached for his Dark Mark, but as he did so a high pitched wail sounded from above them and the glittering chandelier came crashing down. Lucius dropped his hand from his forearm to press Narcissa safely against the wall as Draco and Theo did the same for their own girlfriends. In the chaos, the Malfoy family house elf who'd been the cause of it grabbed onto the two Gryffindors and disapparated. Draco cursed those lucky buggers as he watched his mother's displeased look at the dead Snatcher body crushed under her favourite chandelier, and his father's tight lipped scowl, that he knew was containing a terrifying bellow.

* * *

Theo and Blaise stood outside the door of the Room of Hidden Things. Draco had taken Vince and Greg in to locate the Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw, per the Dark Lord's request. The boys didn't expect to actually have to do anything so they were chatting casually about Quidditch when Theo narrowed his eyes at a clatter, holding up a hand to stop his Italian friend from speaking. Looking towards where the noise had come from Theo noticed a flash of unmistakable vibrant green eyes as their Invisibility Cloak was shifted. Automatically, he pressed the mark on his forearm. It was the last thing he did before he collapsed against the wall.

* * *

"This is taking ages..." Greg complained.

Draco rolled his eyes. It had been quite amusing at first but now he was getting bored. "Accio diadem."

A crash was heard as a pile of rubbish collapsed and the tiara-like object flew into his hand. "Oh... right." Honestly. He was surrounded by idiots.

"I'll have that Malfoy." The blond spun around at that familiar vexing voice. At the entrance to the Room of Hidden Things stood Scarhead himself, flanked by the Weasel and his co-Gryffindor prefect, Perks.

"I don't think so Potter," Draco reached for his Dark Mark.

"I wouldn't bother," Weasley sneered. "One of your lackeys outside already did it... before I gave him a bloody strong magical concussion." He tipped his head. "He hasn't woken up yet... That can't be a good sign."

No matter how worried he might be about his friends, Draco knew he couldn't show any weakness to his enemies. Instead he drew his wand and fired a hex at their attacker, who remarkably stopped it hitting him with a quick _protego_. Apparently those months on the run had improved his abilities. For the next few minutes the three Slytherins fought the three Gryffindors, until Vincent mishandled the _Fiendfyre_ spell and the whole room burst into flames, an enflamed bookcase falling on his screaming friend, trapping him away from them. Struggling to ignore the lump in his throat, Draco grabbed a broom and a protesting Greg and flew out of there, clutching onto the diadem the whole way.

When they'd left the room he slammed the door behind his childhood friend's agony, leaning against the wall coughing from the smoke, but he didn't have time to rest. "Are they- dead?" Greg, his voice croaky from the unexpected loss of his best friend, looked down at Blaise and Theo.

Draco hardened his expression. He should have killed Potter and Weasley himself. Fuck Voldemort's orders. "I don't know. Levitate them to the dorm. I have to deliver this to the Dark Lord."

He marched onwards, a fury in his eyes, towards Snape's headmaster office, but on the way he found the Great Hall full of people, the tables smashed against the walls. On one side of the room were the teachers, members of the Order and 'Dumbledore's Army'. On the other were the Death Eaters and older Slytherins, the Dark Lord standing in front of them all. The other side were trying to prove strong, but he could see several quaking in their boots.

Striding forward with his signature sneer firmly in place, Draco handed Voldemort the Diadem. His master smiled victoriously, before addressing the Light Side, who for some reason looked stupidly betrayed by Draco's actions. "Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me, and neither do I want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood." Draco had moved over to Hermione by now. She wasn't fooled by his facade and immediately took his hand, looking into his eyes and mourning 'what's wrong?'. He shook his head. "Give me Harry Potter and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded."

Voldemort was a charismatic speaker, but his speech didn't stop Longbottom from screaming "NEVER!" And firing a hex at the Dark Lord himself. Of course it didn't hit him, he disapparated with the Diadem in time, but Draco watched in horror as the hex hit Crabbe Sr and the familiar features of the friend he'd never see again morphed into gruesome ones. Roaring in anger, Draco fired the Killing Curse at Longbottom, eliciting screams and panic as his body fell lifelessly to the floor and everyone darted away from the walls, pairing up to duel. Draco found himself locked in battle with one of the Weasley twins as the sound of an explosion rang in his ears. Burning with vengeance he cut through their ranks as he heard the cry of Greyback from Trelawney hitting him with a crystal ball- no loss there. He had reached Weaselette when, back from the dead, Blaise put a hand on his chest. The confusion was enough to stop both him and Weaselette, albeit they had different reasons for said confusion, and Blaise pulled him away. "Theo?" Draco asked his friend as they stood back to back in the thick of the fighting.

"He'll have an unattractive bump on the head for a few days but he'll be fine," Blaise shot a jinx at an approaching Sixth-Year. "Any other casualties?" He didn't know. This wasn't the time to tell him. It would cause too large a distraction, they needed to be focused. He was struggling enough himself, he would never force that burden onto any of his friends. "Draco?"

"No. We'll sweep through them."

* * *

Having just witnessed Louisa Greenglass use the Killing Curse for the first time with a scream of "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" Directed towards Molly Weasley, Hermione was simultaneously duelling with Lovegood and a quite distracted looking Ginny Weasley when the Dark Lord himself apparated back into the room. "Come and face me Harry Potter!" He roared into the chaos of war and was shockingly responded to as Potter finally decided to Gryffindor up.

"STOP!" He called out into the Great Hall, and everyone did, turning to face him. The living parted like the Red Sea, though he had to step over the bodies of his dead comrades along the long walk towards his fate.

"No 'Arry, don't!" Cried Finnegan. Pansy held a wand to his throat but Potter turned to face them.

"Enough of you have died for me!" In the name of Salazar... Even now he had to be the self-absorbed martyr. They'd done this for their school, their beliefs, he was just their weapon! "I only ask that you lay down your arms."

"I am a man of my word!" Voldemort chuckled. He nodded towards Pansy, who released a gasping Finnegan. "Now, come meet Death as a man." It was an excellent piece of theatre, Hermione thought as she watched the two men bow to each other, one willingly, one not so much. And then they pointed their wands at each other and simultaneously shouted **_"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_** The matching green light from each wand seemed to battle, pushing and pulling, but inevitably it surged towards Potter and he collapsed to the ground, to sobs and shouts of despair from his companions. Hermione rushed towards him and put her ear down by his chest, waiting to hear the telltale _thump_ , _thump_. She almost couldn't believe it, but all she heard was deafening silence. Still on her knees, she looked towards an expectant Voldemort.

"It is done, my lord."

His skeletal face broke into a wide grin and he seemed to silently revel in it for a moment before outstretching his arms and looking towards the losing side. "Your champion is dead. Your school and government is under my control. If you support me now it shall be as if you always had. So tell me... shall you join me?" A pregnant pause enveloped the Hall, and then, slowly, Ginny Weasley of all people rose from her crouched position by one of her brothers' sides. Looking around, Hermione could see several dead ginger heads. Ginny continued forwards, looking straight at Voldemort. She opened her mouth and then shut it again, moving to stand beside him. Several gasps were heard, and Hermione was ninety-nine percent sure one of them came from Blaise.

Weasley had opened the floodgates until almost everyone had crossed to stand with Voldemort, the few martyrs facing them standing tall. "Is that it?" Asked the Dark Lord. He was met with a couple of sharp nods. "Last chance..." he sing-songed. "Five...four...three...two...one..."

* * *

 _ **AN: Just the Epilogue left now!**_


	9. Epilogue: Nineteen Years Later

**_Total fluff, just forewarning you._**

 ** _Epilogue: 19 Years Later_**

Two blonde heads and two brunette stepped out of the shining top-range limousine that had been a compromise between their two ideals of travel. Arabella might often complain about the ostentatious nature of it but as her mother constantly reminded her, her father was a proud man. The haughty thirteen year old in question reluctantly accepted the kisses of her parents before racing towards her best friend, Tatiana Nott, and standing nervously behind them the Weasley-Zabini twins, eleven year old Dale and Zara. Their godson, and Draco's second cousin, Teddy was busy snogging the face off of Ginny and Blaise's niece Victoire, but he offered his Aunt Hermione a small embarrassed wave when he saw her and she chuckled, wiggling her fingers in response.

Draco was already clapping his mates on the back, laughing and catching up as if they hadn't seen each other only the other day. Hermione was about to go do the same when her own eleven year old tugged on her sleeve. Glancing down at the warm brown eyes, she saw her own reflection in them. "Mummy?" She nodded. "What if I'm put in Gryffindor?" Hermione shot a disapproving Draco, they'd agreed not to guilt the kids into joining Slytherin! She was going to have to have words with him. "It wasn't Dad!" Scorpius quickly defended his father, then looked down guiltily at his shifting feet. "But Grandpa Tom said if I'm not in Slytherin I'll be letting everyone down- and Arabella said all the kids of the Light will bully me."

Hermione sighed. Sometimes she wished Voldemort wasn't immortal. "Scorpius... we'll always love you no matter what house you're in. On the subject of the Gryffindors, most of them are on our side now, but if you _are_ put in their house and they _do_ bully you they'll have to answer to me, and I'll have them thrown in Azkaban," She promised seriously. No-one hurt her little boy and got away with it. Scorpius nodded, apparently satisfied. She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead and watched half-forlornly, half-proudly as he dragged his trunk along behind him onto the Hogwarts express, settling into a compartment with the twins, his sister and Tatiana.

"Madame Minister," Hermione turned around with a grin and squeal and enveloped Pansy in a hug, laughing as the little toddler on her hip squealed at the suffocation and Marcus pushed their older boy quickly towards the train before he missed it. All the adults watched, chuckling, as Pansy's husband used his immense strength to lift their son and his luggage up onto the train, running along as it pulled away and then leaning doubled over once he'd succeeded in his endeavour. Hermione kept waving to her little boy for as long as she could see his mirrored brown eyes and then she made a funny face at the confused looking Beau Parkinson, who'd just lost his playmate, trying to keep the tears out of her own eyes.

"The house is sure going to be a lot quieter," Draco observed casually, slinging an arm around the back of her neck. Rolling her eyes, Hermione shoved him off, but she was laughing as she did so.

 _ **AN: Thank you so much for all the support of this story, reviewers and silent readers alike! ;) I know there's quite a lot like it out there but I really wanted to write my own version and I've enjoyed getting to play around with the story we all know so well.**_


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